


That Man Of Blood

by Cerdic519



Series: The British Revolution [9]
Category: Captain America - All Media Types, Winter Soldier (Comics)
Genre: 17th Century, Army, Censorship, Costumes, England (Country), English Civil War, Exhaustion, F/M, Family, Friendship, Gay Sex, Inheritance, London, Love, M/M, News Media, Nobility, Northumberland, Oxfordshire, Parliament (UK), Politics, Religion, Royalty, Scheming, Scotland, Secrets, Servants, Stucky - Freeform, Thirty Years War
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-18
Updated: 2020-09-26
Packaged: 2021-03-08 00:47:12
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 17
Words: 26,218
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26526952
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cerdic519/pseuds/Cerdic519
Summary: May 1646 to December 1647.As the various powers jostle for position, the king continues his efforts to split his enemies. He is eventually successful although his actions will result in Cromwell calling him something that foretells his doom if (as in when) things go belly-up. Meanwhile Stephen has problems of his own as the truth about his lover's past may be about to fall into the hands of arguably the worst possible person – his distant brother John!
Relationships: James "Bucky" Barnes/Steve Rogers, Minor or Background Relationship(s)
Series: The British Revolution [9]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1809640
Kudos: 4





	1. Contents

**Author's Note:**

  * For [glasswednesdays](https://archiveofourown.org/users/glasswednesdays/gifts).



A.D. 1646 (continued)  
 _111\. A Greek Horror_   
_112\. Talks And Two Weddings_   
_113\. Cavemen_   
_114\. Diehards And Deals_   
_115\. The Handkerchief Man_   
_116\. Until....._

A.D. 1647  
 _117\. Scandalous Pamphlets And Ballads_   
_118\. Requests_   
_119\. Agitation_   
_120\. A Cornet Calls_   
_121\. The Tail Wagging The Dog_   
_122\. Mobs And Midwives_   
_123\. The Power Of The Gun_   
_124\. Putney And Plunder_   
_125\. The Poorest He_   
_126\. A Bloody Engagement_

MDCXLVI-MDCXLVII


	2. A Greek Horror

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> May 1646.   
> The curious situation has arisen that while the king's few beleaguered garrisons fight on, he himself is taken to Newcastle where the Scots hope to get him to do what their parliamentarian allies have so far failed to do, and turn England Presbyterian (see under absolutely no chance whatsoever). Meanwhile the Marquis of Argyll might be prepared to face most of the horrors of modern warfare, but even he has to draw the line somewhere!

**May 1646**   
**Stalwarton, Oxfordshire, ENGLAND**

“Westminster must be fun just now”, Jamie grinned as they sat down to breakfast (Stephen rather carefully after his very thorough wake-up call from the smirking bastard across the table from him). “Is there any risk that you will be called back?”

Stephen shook his head, then winced. Even that small movement hurt!

“There will be elections either this year or next year to replace all the disqualified members”, he said, wishing that his eyes would stop watering and that his own voice was not so damnably loud. “I do not think that I will stand again. Besides, Vane knows that Oxford is under siege so he would not expect me back before then.”

“I doubt whether you could stand now!” snarked someone who was in imminent danger of sleeping on the couch that night. 

Stephen scowled at him. That hurt too, damnation!

“I will let Cromwell know my intention to stand down”, he said, wishing that that drum inside his head would stop beating so damn loudly, “and he can put out feelers to see which of his friends and colleagues would like the seat. I know that many in parliament, Vane included, are worried that the Independents will greatly increase their presence but we cannot function with less than half a chamber.”

“Do you think the new parliament will be that way inclined?” Jamie asked.

“I do not”, Stephen said. “With any peace there is always a reversion to the status quo, and I think the Presbyterians will at least hold their ground. I dare say that Vane will not be pleased when he learns that I have offered Cromwell 'first pick' at such a plum seat, but then it is family first.” 

“It certainly was at little Stevie's christening!” Jamie grinned.

The nobleman blushed. His lover had been very emotional at a family member bearing his name as a result of which they had nearly arrived late to the great event, earning disapproving looks from Luke and, annoyingly, his son slipping some money to his wife. The bastard had been betting on them turning up looking like.... well, like.

Yes, he had been right, but that had not made it any the less annoying!

MDCXLVI

**May 1646**  
 **Stalwarton, Oxfordshire, ENGLAND**

“Newark has surrendered on the king's orders”, Stephen said the very next day. “But to its Scottish besiegers, not its English ones. And the Scottish army had long started north with their prisoner.”

“I wonder how soon it will take the king to realize that he is a prisoner rather than their king?” Jamie mused. “My countrymen are not known for their subtlety, so I am sure it will soon be brought home to him. Although I would wager that they will be much slower to realize that their chances of his accepting a Presbyterian settlement are about the same as mine of getting you pregnant!”

“After last night, I wonder at that comparison!” Stephen quipped. “If ever they do find a way to make men have babies any time soon, then with your sex mania you will have me as one of the first man-mothers!”

Jamie just looked at him. Stephen gulped. Lord help him!

MDCXLVI

The Lord did not. And verily, Stephen Roger Amerike was glad!

MDCXLVI

**May 1646**  
 **Chipping Norton, Oxfordshire, ENGLAND**

Edward Stark looked around the town square and frowned.

“This seems a poor place”, he said. “Should the estate really be buying land here?”

“It is poor because of its position”, Jamie explained. “Right on the northern border of the county, and with Stratford not far up the road nearly always in enemy hands. The old system of armies living off the land means that border areas like this have been hit more than most; we were fortunate to dispose of your Berkshire holdings¹ before the contention as that county suffered as much if not more. However the fall of Banbury should put an end to this place's sufferings and besides, now we have the professional New Model Army who are not supposed to do that.”

The boy looked at him shrewdly.

“Not supposed to, but they do?” he asked. Jamie nodded.

“Parliament trying to run things on the cheap, as always”, he said. “Terrible the way _some_ politicians behave these days!”

Stephen glared at him for that. How did the bastard make being right so damn annoying?

“Parliament has obtained many lands like the ones we are looking at here”, he explained to his charge, “as the price of Royalists compounding for their supporting the king. Some landowners will see this as a chance to get more land cheaply; however given the unusual circumstances that your estate finds itself in, we shall pay full price. It is still a bargain, and with the lands we have around Ditchley halfway here it fits in well to the estate.”

“I trust you, sir”, the boy said. “I will do as you advise.”

MDCXLVI

They arrived back to the Hall late that evening to find a report from Oxford. Chatton had been down there to find out how the siege was progressing; slowly seemed to be the answer as Fairfax was reportedly determined to avoid risking an assault on what was a well-defended town. Very wisely so, in Jamie's opinion.

There was also a letter from Stephen's cousin Vale which contained both news and a request.

“He says that parliament has actually tried to disband the Scots army!” Stephen said incredulously. “If our allies needed an example of our bad faith, then that surely is it!”

“The vote passed?” Jamie asked.

“In the Commons, but the Lords very wisely declined to consider it after which someone belatedly saw sense and dropped it”, Stephen said. “What did they think was going to happen? The Scots would just turn round and say, 'in that case, we shall just give you your king back and forget about all that money you still owe us'? Fools!”

“How is Vale doing?” Jamie asked. “Diana has not made an honest man of him yet?”

Stephen read the rest of the letter and his eyebrows shot up.

“What is it?” Jamie asked.

“They ask if they can be married at St. Giles”, Stephen said. “I had thought that Diana might have wanted a London church, although I know she is not that religious.”

“It would be useful, having one of parliament's key lawyers married here”, Jamie mused. “What do you think, Edward?”

The boy thought for a moment.

“He is family”, he said. “And this Miss Prince sounds nice. It would be good to see them both.”

“I shall write back and let them know”, Stephen said, “and I shall talk to the vicar tomorrow about having the banns read². With luck we can have it at the end of June or the start of July.”

MDCXLVI

**May 1646**  
 **Stalwarton, Oxfordshire, ENGLAND**

It was a busy month, for there was another letter for Stephen the very next day. He chuckled as he read it.

“Perhaps that is one way to avoid any more wars”, he smiled. “Threaten to unleash the ultimate weapon unless the other side surrenders to your demands!”

“What weapon?” Jamie asked. 

“The Scots have been trying to solve the problem of Montrose”, Stephen said. “To be honest, I suspect that the king is just using him as an excuse to delay as he so often does but I suppose that having betrayed Strafford as he sees it, he is not going to repeat that error. Fortunately it is all solved now as they have agreed that if he quits for the Continent and swears the usual oath not to fight for the king again, then they will accept that.”

Jamie stared at him suspiciously.

“That sounds far too reasonable for the likes of Argyll”, he said suspiciously. “He and many of my countrymen rank my half-uncle down there with the Pope when it comes to people they would like to see dead, and who they would cheerfully make dead in person.”

Stephen smiled.

“Adey writes that he knew they were having trouble last week, so he wrote to Aunt Agnes”, he said. “She sent Argyll a story of hers – one of the Ancient Greek ones - and suggested that if they were having trouble reaching a deal, she might even come up in person!”

“Ouch!”

“Argyll sent back terms of the deal by express courier!” Stephen chuckled. “It seems your countrymen are prepared to face the horrors of the battlefield, but not” - he looked again at the letter - “the one about the three hundred Spartans reaching the Elysian Fields sexually!”

“Ste, damnation!”

The nobleman chuckled. With luck he would be paying for that later, so a win all round!

MDCXLVI

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _1) After the Norman Conquest in 1066, William the Bastard solved the problem of strong regional barons potentially rising up against him by rewarding his followers with lands scattered across his new kingdom. This is why today the Duke of Devonshire has his principal seat up in Derbyshire, while the Duke of Norfolk rules his estate from a castle in Sussex. Over time marriages between families created those regional power bases; the Bradstocks had become strong in the lands between Oxford and Chipping Norton, so buying land in the latter town made good sense._   
>  _2) Traditionally the banns were and still are published three weeks before a wedding. Legally speaking Vale and Diana had no right to be married at St. Giles as neither of them lived in the parish, but as effectively the Bradstock family church such rules were often 'glossed over'._


	3. Talks And Two Weddings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> June-July 1646.   
> The king continues his efforts to divide his opponents, assisted by their increasing distrust of each other. There are two weddings; one at St. Giles at which both Stephen and Jamie behave with complete decorum and not because Miss Prince had threatened all sorts of horrors if they do not (well, not totally because of that), and another down in Oxford after which they.... come on, you surely didn't expect another miracle?

**June 1646**   
**Stalwarton, Oxfordshire, ENGLAND**

Stephen winced as he read his latest letter.

“Not the king?” Jamie asked.

The nobleman shook his head.

“Ireland”, he said. “The Confederate rebels have won a major victory at Benburh up in Ulster, now that the Cessation is finally over.”

“You do not think that they could secure the island before we get troops there, though?” Jamie asked, surprised.

“That depends on how long it takes to reach some sort of settlement”, Stephen said, “with or without the king. Unfortunately this will give him renewed hope that the rebels may come to his aid; I am sure that he will be accelerating his dealings with them now.”

“That is a wager no-one would accept!" Jamie snorted. “This king will never deal straight!”

MDCXLVI

**June 1646**  
 **Stalwarton, Oxfordshire, ENGLAND**

“Lilburne has done it again”, Stephen sighed as they sat together in the study, the soldier's head on the nobleman's lap. He toyed with the always ridiculously long hair and smiled at his lover's half-hearted attempt to swat him away.

“Who has he annoyed this time?” Jamie asked. “There is a 'y' in the day so it must be Manchester.”

“Their enmity goes back a way”, Stephen said, “and was not helped over that Welbeck fiasco. They have crossed each other financially over a plot of land somewhere or other; naturally it ended up with parliament who, shock horror, decided in Manchester's favour.”

“Let me guess”, Jamie chuckled. “Another book?”

Stephen nodded.

“I do not know how he does it”, he said, “but being in gaol does not stop his writings from coming out and being spread across the capital. It does not help that Manchester is now Speaker in the Lords, whose few remaining members the Commons wishes to keep on side.”

“You mean for when they have to deal with the New Model Army”, Jamie said shrewdly. “All those men with guns who they keep 'forgetting' to pay properly. Terrible, the standard of politicians these days.”

Stephen glared at him. Snarky bastard!

MDCXLVI

**June 1646**  
 **Stalwarton, Oxfordshire, ENGLAND**

“I do not see it, sir”, Edward said, frowning in concentration. “Why should the Scots not talk to the king? He is their king too, and their prisoner for now.”

“It is not so much the talks that are the problem”, Stephen said. “It is where they might lead. The Scots wish to enforce their Presbyterian system on England as they believe they were promised under the Solemn League And Covenant, and they were holding talks with him before his capture without informing their parliamentarian allies.”

“The same allies who keep 'forgetting' to pay them”, Jamie pointed out from his chair, “and who insist on them quartering themselves on the poor country peoples.”

The boy thought for a while.

“Then that is bad for the king”, he said at last.

“Why do you say that?” Stephen asked.

“Because the Scots believe that as they have the king, they can force a settlement that suits them”, the boy said. “And that may push parliament into a position that they can only get what _they_ want in a settlement without the king.”

“You mean deposition?” Stephen asked. “Or abdication?”

The boy hesitated.

“I hope one or the other”, he said. “Because like chess, the game is never fully won until the king is surrounded.”

Stephen may have imagined it, but there seemed to have been a slight stress on that last syllable.

MDCXLVI

**June 1646**  
 **Stalwarton, Oxfordshire, ENGLAND**

What was left of Stephen Roger Amerike lay exhausted in his bed, a broken but very happy man. Formal events like today's always brought out the savage beast in his lover and he welcomed that, even if certain body parts might not be functioning properly any time soon.

He and Jamie had gone down to Oxford for the wedding of Cromwell's daughter Bridget to one of his commanders, a dour-faced fellow called Henry Ireton. The nobleman's ride down to the siege camp had been bad enough with Jamie looking hungrily at him the whole way, and as for the ride back – who the blazes had moved the Hall all the way to Scotland? The nobleman had been so hard that he had been almost unable to walk when he had dismounted, although that was not a problem now as he would not be walking anywhere any time soon.

A familiar and annoyingly smirking figure loomed over him, and Stephen groaned.

“You had better have some aftercare unguent on you”, the nobleman grumbled. 

“You would not wish me to use my Magical Healing Cock?” Jamie asked innocently. “Cures all known ills!”

“And leaves its victims like this!” Stephen sighed. “Either help an old man recover or leave me be.”

“I suppose that you will be forty the year after next”, said someone who was pushing his already thin luck. 

Stephen pouted and rolled onto his side. Thankfully Jamie got his hand over his lover's mouth just in time to stifle the scream of pain that ensued. And as the nobleman lay there with his eyes watering, the horrible thought crossed his mind that his cousin Vale's wedding was in barely a fortnight's time....

MDCXLVI

**June 1646**  
 **Stalwarton, Oxfordshire, ENGLAND**

“Oxford has surrendered.”

Jamie looked up expectantly.

“Did they capture the Duke of York?” he asked.

“Yes, taken to London”, Stephen said. “A pity that we did not bag his brother down in the Scillies; he is now safely in France with his mother. I would wager a penny to a pound that she is peppering her husband with letters, always assuming that the Scots let him receive them.”

“Knowing this king I am sure that he still has some way of communicating with her”, Jamie said. “Most likely through the French ambassador; my countrymen will not wish to risk upsetting them at this juncture although they are unlikely to do anything to save the king now.”

“He was reportedly most surprised when Argyll told him he would not be allowed into Scotland until he had agreed to their terms”, Stephen said. “The question now is, how long will it take the Scots to tire of his evasions? And following on from that, what will they do then?”

MDCXLVI

**July 1646**  
 **Stalwarton, Oxfordshire, ENGLAND**

Stephen would like it put on record that he and his lover were on their best behaviour for his cousin Vale's wedding to Mistress Diana Prince. And not because she had taken them aside and threatened to have their entire 'goody area' (the two wardrobes and the Special Boxes under the bed) removed if they so much as looked at each other the wrong way during her great day. Definitely not!

For the nobleman there was also the awful sight of the new Mrs. Bradstock discussing something with his lover that..... well, either he or Vale was in for an interesting evening! Perhaps even the pair of them!

He hoped for his cousin's sake that he had misread that hand-gesture from his new relative!

MDCXLVI

**July 1646**  
 **Stalwarton, Oxfordshire, ENGLAND**

Stephen read his latest letter in silence. It was unusually long, and Jamie waited until he had finished before speaking.

“Well?” he asked.

“Parliament has come up with something they are calling the Newcastle Propositions”, the nobleman said heavily, "to which the Scots have reportedly acceded. The king has to not only sign the Covenant but enforce Presbyterianism on England, there is to be an end to episcopacy, and parliament is to take control of both the armed forces and the nomination of all judges for not less than twenty years, with the right to take those powers back after that time 'if they deem it so fit'. Parliament is also to take full control of the war in Ireland.”

“Did they manage to scrape the king off the ceiling after they had told him all that?” Jamie asked dryly.

“He will probably be most upset by this last demand”, Stephen said. “A large number of Royalists are to be excluded from pardon and will be tried for their actions.”

“Likely he was thinking of potential supporters for when he tries something stupid next time”, Jamie said. “Not that I would wish to always think the worst of him, save that it is always true!”

“And the lack of mercy towards the king's supporters is likely a sop to parliament as it will enable them to rake in much more money that way”, Stephen observed.

“The New Model Army will not like that”, Jamie said at once.

“Why not?” Stephen asked.

“Because many of their commanders, Fairfax and Cromwell included, got relatively bloodless surrenders of the king's last few garrisons by agreeing to allow their quarries to compound”, Jamie said, “which parliament had said was all right. Going back on their word and taxing these men further makes the Army look like liars, and you know how a fighting man feels on the subject of honour. I am sure your friends in Westminster will claim that the moneys are needed for the soldiers' back-pay – it most definitely is – but this is a mistake.”

“And my colleagues are furious at the Scots breaking the Covenant as they see it by seeking a separate peace with the king”, Stephen sighed. “Worse, he will do as he always does; spin things out and seek to exacerbate the divisions among his enemies of which there are far too many. If he somehow manages to restart this war, I doubt that many will feel inclined to forgive him.”

MDCXLVI


	4. Cavemen

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> July-August 1646.   
> Over on the Continent the progress towards a final peace is painfully slow, but at least it keeps England's enemies occupied. Also a certain nobleman makes the mistake of mentioning cavemen to his lover, which is never going to end well!

**July 1646**   
**Stalwarton, Oxfordshire, ENGLAND**

“Worcester has surrendered.”

Jamie nodded, unsurprised at the news.

“The end of the king's little Midlands kingdom”, he said. “Now it is all isolated forts, held by those who like him choose to defy reality that little bit longer for no good reason.”

“You did say once that wars are rarely fought for good reasons”, Stephen pointed out.

“I actually said that one man's good reason might not be another man's”, the soldier countered. “I am certainly no Charles Stuart, spending a whole decade trying to find ways to bend the law to my own advantage then being astonished that for some reason people do not like my actions.”

“He is unable to bend much just now”, Stephen said, “especially as there is yet more bad news from the Continent. Not only is the crawl towards peace barely moving, but the French have taken Dunkirk. His pirates will have to find somewhere else to operate from, most likely Ireland as we all know they have been co-operating with the Confederate rebels there.”

“It is depressing the king is so stupid he cannot see the harm they have done”, Jamie sighed. “He talks about saving the Anglican Church, then allies himself with Catholic rebels and seeks to bring in Catholic powers from outside to enforce his will on us all. I dare say few would see it as such, but the German wars have been a good thing in keeping them all busy.”

“The king still hopes for support from Frederick Henry, especially as his in-law is increasingly fearful of the French seizing parts of the Spanish Netherlands for themselves”, Stephen said. “Like here in England, there is nothing like approaching victory to cause a mad scramble for the best positions prior to the final peace talks.”

“Except”, Jamie said, “that with this king, there can never be peace because he cannot be trusted. If the German wars cease then some will wonder if the king might but be exiled. Which of course is impossible; he would become the perfect figurehead for any power that wanted to cause trouble and even impose him back on us at the point of a sword.”

"Well, if the king is right then God will provide a way out of this”, Stephen said. “I hope so, for I myself cannot see one just now.”

MDCXLVI

**August 1646**  
 **Stalwarton, Oxfordshire, ENGLAND**

“It is times like this that I am reminded just how little our king understands the real world”, Stephen said. “Did he really think that the Scots were going to let him come all the way to London to talk to parliament while he is still hemming and hawing over these Propositions?”

“Probably”, Jamie yawned, the frowned as he looked out of the window.

“What is it?” Stephen asked. “Someone coming to the Hall?”

“No”, the soldier sighed. “It is set to rain again.”

Stephen frowned too. The weather that year had been not so much bad as all over the place, and it looked like being a poor harvest. At the one time that the nation desperately needed a good one to start clawing its way out of this mess.

“At least with Dunkirk out of commission our Navy should find it easier to protect our ships”, he said. “I shall see if I can order in some grain from France or the Netherlands.”

“That will have the local barons whining again”, Jamie predicted, “you looking after the lower orders and not letting them just starve. Next thing you will be agreeing with the likes of the Levellers¹ and wanting them to become our equals!”

“As I said, I am quite progressive in my views”, Stephen smiled. “Or as they are doubtless calling it, quite mad! But you never know when it might pay to build up goodwill, even among the 'lower orders' as they are called.”

MDCXLVI

**August 1646**  
 **Stalwarton, Oxfordshire, ENGLAND**

“And there goes the last slender hope that the king had of getting any hope out of Ireland!”

“More trouble for that unhappy place?” Jamie asked. 

Stephen nodded.

“The Pope is convinced that his scattered bands of cattle-raiders who have won a sum total of one open battle in five years can easily push over the New Model Army”, Stephen sighed. “So he has instructed all the clergy to oppose any deal that does not make Ireland one hundred per cent Catholic. It will be bloody indeed when they discover just how wrong they are, although perhaps when they retreat to their towns and cities they might do better.”

“Fairfax and Cromwell are both punctilious about the laws of warfare”, Jamie said, “which is to their great credit. Far too many of the men I served alongside in Germany were not, not by any stretch of the imagination! But like with the king, they will follow those laws to the letter. If the Irish try anything even remotely questionable, there will be a bloodbath.”

“Religion”, Stephen sighed. “For all that it has helped Mankind along, sometimes it drags it right back again to cavemen hitting each other over the head and going 'ug!'”

His lover was silent.

“What?” the nobleman asked.

“I was just thinking”, Jamie said slowly. “The alpha male caveman, dragging his wench by the hair back to the cave to have his way with her.”

“You do know that those drawings were likely complete rot?” Stephen asked.

His lover just looked at him. Slowly – far too slowly, it might be said – the nobleman got it.

They were about to add another costume to their 'special' wardrobe.

MDCXLVI

**August 1646**  
 **Stalwarton, Oxfordshire, ENGLAND**

“Please say that you managed to get some grain from somewhere!” Jamie groaned as he staggered in. It had rained constantly these past few days and apart from some wheat that they had managed to harvest early, most of their crops that year were just a soggy mulch, fit only to be ploughed back into the ground to feed next year's crop.

“I had to go all the way to the Netherlands, but yes”, Stephen said. “It will be expensive though.”

“Because they have had a bad harvest as well?” his lover asked. 

Stephen shook his head.

“Security”, he said. “I will have it brought by barge up the river, but as you know the roads around the waterways are much more dangerous now.”

The soldier knew what he meant. Many men from the king's army along with quite a few pretending to be such, had taken to the role of highwayman, robbing travellers up and down the nation's roads. With the country so unsettled there was no easy way to deal with the menace, and they might well target a food convoy unless it was well-guarded.

“I will make donations from it to certain people”, Stephen said, “although not until it is safely in our granaries and under constant guard. That will be another strain on the estate, although we can pay the guards in grain which they will appreciate.”

“Likely more than money, the state our coinage² is in”, Jamie agreed.

MDCXLVI

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _1) One of a plethora of strange sects which sprang up around this time. They believed that the poor should take on and farm uncultivated land and so raise themselves up. They also believed in full manhood suffrage, equality before the law and religious toleration, so were clearly quite mad!_   
>  _2) Both the king and parliament issued coins during the war, although by this time those of the king in and around Oxford were pretty much worthless. Also both sides allowed clipping, taking pieces of silver off the edges of coins and using them to create more coins while presenting the original (usually along with the sharp end of a handy weapon) as payment. This process had been outlawed under Great Elizabeth but the Stuarts, always desperate for money, had allowed it to start up again._


	5. Diehards And Deals

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> August-September 1646.   
> Despite his last few forces laying down their arms the king still seems to think that he can somehow talk his way back into power, only to be told very firmly that no, he cannot. Much worse for him, the Scots tire of his evasions and begin negotiations to hand him over to their English allies in return for their back-pay. It seems all over bar the shouting (not including that coming from a certain nobleman's bedroom on a nightly basis) – but is it?

**August 1646**   
**Stalwarton, Oxfordshire, ENGLAND**

Some developments in the war came as a complete shock. This was definitely not one of them.

“The patience of your countrymen has finally run out”, Stephen said. “I am frankly amazed that it lasted as long as it did. They have offered to hand the king over to parliament in return for full settlement of their back-pay.”

“Their enemies will of course say that they are selling him”, Jamie said at once. “How much is a monarch going for these days?”

“For some strange and inexplicable reason the two sides have slightly different views on that”, Stephen said with a smile. “The Scots are asking for five hundred thousand pounds, while parliament has made an initial offer of one hundred thousand¹.”

“The settlement will be nearer my countrymen's figure because they have the king in their possession”, Jamie sighed. “I do not like Argyll as a man but in a way I feel sorry for him. Like so many up there he believes that religious convictions can carry him to success, and he does not see that this king will no more bend in that area than he will over his Divine Right.”

“The question is, what will parliament do with him when they have him?” Stephen wondered. “He will not bend to their demands either, and will seek to widen the split between the Presbyterians and Independents down here. Parliament's failure to pay its soldiers is, as we know, creating much resentment even among those who won the war for them. It does not bode well.”

MDCXLVI

**August 1646**  
 **Stalwarton, Oxfordshire, ENGLAND**

“Mr. Chatton, sir?”

The steward paused and looked expectantly at the boy.

“Yes, Master Edward?” he said politely.

“Do you know where a place called Pendennis² is?”

Chatton thought quickly. He knew his masters well enough to know just where this question might lead to, and that he needed to be on his guard.

“It is somewhere down in Cornwall if I remember”, he said. “Quite a few places down there start with 'pen'. One of the estate workers when I served your master up in Scotland came from the area, and he used to say that 'by the Tre, Pol and Pen, you may know the Cornishmen.”

“Only my guardian seemed very nervous when he got the news that the castle there had surrendered to us”, the boy said, frowning. “I would have thought that that was good news?”

It was for parliament, Chatton thought wryly, but not for the chances of one Stephen Roger Amerike being able to sit down much tomorrow.

“And he looked the same when he got the news about those two other castles, Raglan and Flint”, the boy said.

“They are at opposite ends of Wales”, Chatton said helpfully. “I think that the king still has a couple more places holding out there for him though, or so Fraser told me.”

“I do hope that Mr. Fraser is all right”, the boy said seriously. “I walked down past your cottage the other day and saw him sleeping on the bench in the garden. In the middle of the day.”

“He is nearly sixty now so getting on in years”, Chatton said, smiling to himself as he remembered the cause for his lover's nap that day. “We had a small celebration to mark the ending of the war with those castles falling.”

“Come to that, my guardian looked just as tired at breakfast the other day”, the boy said thoughtfully. “And both times it was the day after he had received news of success in the war. I wonder if he will be celebrating tonight and be tired again tomorrow?”

As sure as the sun rising in the east, Chatton thought wryly.

“Being an adult is not easy”, he deflected, “and we have to enjoy what moments we can.”

The boy looked at him thoughtfully. 

“Hmm”, he said.

MDCXLVI

**September 1646**  
 **Stalwarton, Oxfordshire, ENGLAND**

“They are saying that this is the worst year for the plague in London this century”, Stephen said. “Vane has been sending home as many members away as he can, so there will be no need for me to go back.”

“Did you write to Cromwell about standing down?” Jamie asked.

“Yes, and he thanked me for the consideration”, Stephen said. “Vane is against the idea but he has had to agree to a series of by-elections to fill all the vacant seats over the coming months – at least the plague will delay that – and I can slip my seat into the mix.”

“I like your seat”, Jamie grinned teasingly, “especially when I can use it to celebrate all our victories of late.”

Stephen blushed.

“You really are terrible, you know”, he smiled.

“Aye”, his lover agreed, “but I love you.”

Stephen thought wryly that the way his heart fluttered every time his lover used that simple word was likely costing him his few remaining Man Points but.... oh, he had that look on his face again. Seriously, at ten in the morning?

MDCXLVI

At ten in the morning! Also at ten past ten, twenty past and twenty-five to eleven, damn the rogue!

MDCXLVI

**September 1646**  
 **Stalwarton, Oxfordshire, ENGLAND**

“My half-uncle has left for Norway”, Jamie said with a sigh. “He will be feted as a defender of monarchy in courts across Europe, which will doubtless bore him to death but will at least keep him financially secure little though he cares for such things.”

“And parliament has finally reached a deal with your countrymen”, Stephen said. “Four hundred thousand; as you said nearer their figure. Once the first instalment is paid they will hand the king over at Newcastle and leave.”

“I am surprised that he has not at least made some attempt to escape”, Jamie said. “But then perhaps he is just waiting for the Lord to secure his inevitable victory which, we know, must surely come!”

Stephen smiled at his lover's obvious snark.

“There are reports from the Continent that the Spanish in particular are desperate for peace”, he said. “What with fighting the French, supporting their Hapsburg cousins, and beating down revolts in both Portugal and Catalonia, their economy cannot totter on for much longer.”

“And that will worry parliament”, Jamie said, “as it will open up the threat of foreign involvement. Relations with the French in particular are difficult just now, especially as we have proof that they have been funding the Irish rebels while they wish to at least see the husband of a French princess treated with respect.”

“Which he will be”, Stephen said, “right up to the moment when he next does something either stupid or treacherous. Likely both!”

MDCXLVI

**September 1646**  
 **Stalwarton, Oxfordshire, ENGLAND**

“The passing of the old order”, Jamie said when Stephen read him the news from London. “A life very thoroughly lived, although he never got his very obvious wish to be vice-regent for a puppet king.”

The Earl of Essex had died down in London, reportedly of a stroke while out hunting. 

“And no heir to continue his line”, Stephen observed. “I wonder why he was not make a duke before his passing; I know that parliament voted to do it but for some reason it never happened.”

“Possibly because he was the leader of the Presbyterian party”, Jamie suggested. “One of the last of the great nobles; the House of Lords must be a shadow of what it was at the start of the war when most people considered it the equal of your Commons.”

“But we had a steady flow of money through trade while they had it from land”, Stephen said, “which as the king's late father found out can only be sold for a one-time gain and is then gone forever. Although I wish that my fellow members could be more honourable in peace; the continuation of things like the Court of Wards disgraces us all.”

“Indeed”, Jamie agreed. “Using questionable methods to extract moneys from people like that. That sort of thing might start a war if one is not careful!”

Stephen shook his head at his lover.

MDCXLVI

**September 1646**  
 **Stalwarton, Oxfordshire, ENGLAND**

“Now this is bad.”

Stephen's fears had been confirmed when they had learned their grain shipment had indeed been attacked, although the raiders had been beaten off. But from the look on his lover's face, Jamie judged that it was rather more serious than that.

“The king?” he asked.

Stephen shook his head.

“Ireland”, he said. “Now that they have lost the support of the moderate Anglo-Irish lords and are gunning for full independence, the Pope's man has massed his forces and is marching on Dublin.”

“Does he seriously think that his ragged rebels can stand up against the power of the New Model Army?” Jamie scoffed. “Even if, heaven forfend, they manage to take the capital, we still have holds in Munster let alone the Scots defending their own brethren in Ulster.”

“The trouble is, our men over there have been so drained to fund the war efforts in Britain that all we can do for now is hold on in places like Dublin”, Stephen said. “And worse still, this will make parliament do the one thing that I was dreading.”

Jamie thought for a moment.

“They will have to send at least some troops to Ireland to hold the line”, he reasoned, “and more later. But no soldier is going to want to cross the Irish Sea before they been paid for risking their lives in England.”

“I am afraid that this latest letter from Vane contains worse”, Stephen said grimly. “There are many in parliament – possibly even a majority – who want to remove Fairfax and Cromwell, then replace them with their own Presbyterian candidates. And as I am sure you can imagine, a lot of unpaid, armed men who are thinking for themselves for the first times in their lives, then being treated like that....”

He trailed off, but Jamie could see what he meant. Surely though, not even parliament would be that stupid?

MDCXLVI

Ah.

MDCXLVI

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _1) Respectively around £100 million ($120 million) and £20 million ($24 million) at 2020 prices. The final settlement would be $400,000, so about £80 million ($96 million) at 2020 prices._   
>  _2) An impressive castle overlooking the important Cornish port of Falmouth, which spared it the usual fate of slighting. It was used as part of the port's defences in both World Wars but is now a tourist attraction._


	6. The Handkerchief Man

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> October-November 1646.   
> A nervous hush hangs over the country as parliament strives to find the money with which to pay the Scots, and tensions also rise at Stalwarton where a neighbour is again less than friendly. In a sodden autumn Stephen finally ceases to be a member of parliament as a by-election is called, but at least the locals will have a good man to represent them in future. Meanwhile a ship is careened – or maybe not.

**October 1646**   
**Stalwarton, Oxfordshire, ENGLAND**

Stephen stared at his lover who was gazing out of the large study window, seemingly looking for something.

“As we expecting someone from that letter?” he asked.

“No”, the soldier said with a smile. “I just read that your colleagues at Westminster have renewed the New Model Army for another six months and have promised to address the matter of back-pay.”

Stephen did not really see how that equated to his lover staring out of the window, much as he enjoyed the sight of him bending over in a kilt.

“So?” he asked, trying to steady his suddenly and inexplicably rapid breathing.

“I was looking to see if those pigs had flown by yet!”

The nobleman shook his head at his lover. 

“You are terrible!” he sighed. “What am I going to do with you?”

“Fuck me until there is not a drop of come left in your body?” Jamie suggested slyly. “You do not have to go anywhere today, after all.”

“Unfortunately I have someone coming here later”, Stephen sighed. “Lord Grayland of all people.”

Jamie winced. Their unpleasant neighbour had never forgiven them for getting him into bad odour with the king over his creation of an ornamental lake for his home a little way up the valley, and matters had not been helped by the fact that he had bought his way back into favour just before the king's cause had collapsed. A ton of money wasted, in other words.

“You might have told me”, the soldier grumbled. “I shall have to clean out my flintlocks!”

Stephen rolled his eyes at the fellow.

“Our neighbour cannot help being an insufferable bigoted oath with bad breath, four ex-wives and six children all of whom detest him”, he said. 

Jamie just looked at him.

“All right, he probably can”, Stephen admitted. “And the meeting will not go well, as he wants some of our grain for his estate workers.”

“Since the pigs have still not started their fly-past”, Jamie said, “I shall not ask something irredeemably stupid as 'has he actually asked rather than demanded'?”

“He is also angry that I would not plead his cause for a reduction in his compounding fine”, Stephen said, evading his lover's question. “That was because I knew him, and worse, so does Cromwell. He remembered him as the fellow who had shot one of his soldiers while they were out on patrol and then tried to blame it on one of his servants.”

“Cromwell does not forgive and forget”, Jamie said. “Possibly his only similarity with the king, I suppose. Are you sure I cannot test out my flintlock? _Pretty please?”_

Stephen chuckled as the villain batted his eyelashes at him. He really was terrible – and he was all his!

MDCXLVI

**October 1646**  
 **Stalwarton, Oxfordshire, ENGLAND**

It was twenty-four hours later, and what little was left of Stephen Roger Amerike was only now beginning to drift down from the cloud where he had been fucked to by his insatiable lover. He might never walk in a straight line again, but who cared?

The meeting with his unpleasant neighbour had started badly and then gone downhill fast. Stephen knew that some members of his class were like that – as the fellow responsible for his current state often said, some of them were so far up themselves that even a map could not have helped them find their way out! - but Lord Grayland in person was even worse! Anyone who placed a silken handkerchief¹ on the chair before seating his ample posterior was clearly not bothered about creating a good impression, and he had sneered at Jamie as being 'a mere soldier'. The Scotsman had been livid by the time he had left, and had taken out his anger on an all too willing nobleman.

Stephen tried to sit up but his limbs were still not on speaking terms with his brain, and he sank back into the bed. Fortunately there was a plate of bread-and-butter on the bedside cabinet which Jamie very generously fed him. Which was good as the bread seemed absurdly heavy for some reason.

“I am sorry”, Jamie said, looking oddly abashed. “I just forgot in all the excitement. I can go in your place if you wish.”

Unfortunately the memory bringing Stephen down from heaven and which had finally battered its way into his frazzled brain was that he had promised to take young Edward to the horse-fair in King's Linton either today or tomorrow. Given his current status, even tomorrow looked like a long shot.

“I am not riding a horse any time soon!” the nobleman sighed. “Wake me come December!”

He yawned and subsided into his lover's embrace, but accepted some more slices of bread-and-butter before he finally nodded off.

MDCXLVI

**October 1646**  
 **Stalwarton, Oxfordshire, ENGLAND**

“I am sorry that you were not well yesterday, sir”, Edward said politely the next day. “Fortunately Uncle Thor and Brennus came by for a visit, and they took me to the fair. There was not much there but I enjoyed it, and my uncle did too.”

“Bren did not?” Stephen yawned, ignoring the smirking smirker across the breakfast-table.

“I am sure he did”, the boy said, “but Uncle Thor very clearly needed it more. He looked very tired and had to lie down in the cart on the way back. I do not think that he is getting enough sleep; I said as much to Brennus and he very firmly agreed with me.”

Jamie only narrowly managed to turn a snort of laughter into a cough. Stephen glared at him.

“Are you getting enough?” the boy asked.

“Do not worry, Edward”, Jamie smiled. “I am making sure that your guardian _always_ gets enough!”

Stephen wondered – was it possible to divorce a lover?

MDCXLVI

**October 1646**  
 **Stalwarton, Oxfordshire, ENGLAND**

“And there go the bishops!”

Stephen sat down carefully and looked curiously at his lover.

“They have finally abolished episcopacy?” he asked. “I was beginning to think that they would never get round to it. Surely a little late in the day to be trying to placate the Scots?”

“I think that my countrymen rather cleverly leaked them the news that the king had been trying to get to Scotland”, Jamie said. “At this late stage there is no way that that would make a difference, but it likely succeeded in unnerving Westminster. They have still not raised the money to start paying for the king, and if they think that he might somehow raise a party of support in the northern kingdom then they will open their wallets with greater haste.”

“The king was foolish not to agree to their Presbyterian demands”, Stephen said, “as it was his only hope of swinging them over to his side. But his own religious convictions are as strong if not stronger than theirs. I wonder what parliament will do with him when they get their hands on him?”

“Likely the same as Great Elizabeth did with his tempestuous grandmother Mary Queen of Scots”, Jamie said. “A defensible midlands fortress far from London, the coast and the Scottish Border, as well as not near any town. It is lucky we are too close to the capital for him to come anywhere near here.”

MDCXLVI

**October 1646**  
 **Stalwarton, Oxfordshire, ENGLAND**

“I did not think that the Confederate rebels would get within sight of Dublin”, Stephen admitted over a week later, “but our men there have done the right thing. I know that a scorched earth policy is devastating to the locals but then so is a siege, and the Irish are so used to living off the land that they will find setting up a siege impossible, let alone maintaining it. That requires discipline, which they do not have.”

Jamie sighed unhappily. Stephen looked across at him and gestured for the soldier to join him on the sofa which he did, lying with his head on the nobleman's lap.

“You did not actually kill the fellow”, he said.

There had been an unfortunate incident two days before with one of the estate workers who had decided to break into the granaries and try to help himself to extra grain. Unluckily for him he was bitterly unpopular with his neighbours who had warned Fraser about what he was planning, so he and Jamie had lain in wait for him. This villain had pulled a knife and threatened the steward, so Jamie had shot at him.

He had not actually aimed at..... that certain body part, but in the dark of the barn he had hit rather higher up the leg than he had meant to. Mr. Baldwin would not be up for any more thievery, and Mrs. Baldwin would be in for more than a few quiet nights.

“I think that young Edward handled it well”, Stephen went on. “A pity that we cannot be more open about him, but he was right that dismissing the fellow would make it hard on his brothers who are good men.”

“And who will almost certainly have to pay a forfeit when he breaks the surety they stood for him”, Jamie sighed. “Though I am sure we will only ask a small one of them. Like in Germany, some men are just rotten to the core.”

He sighed again as Stephen played with his long hair, and they both mused on the vagaries of Mankind.

MDCXLVI

**November 1646**  
 **Stalwarton, Oxfordshire, ENGLAND**

“This is interesting”, Stephen observed. “There are reports from Newcastle that a Dutch ship has been hovering in the harbour, possibly an attempt by old Frederick Henry to rescue his in-law.”

“I did wonder when the king would realize what a bind he is in and start trying to escape”, Jamie said. “Though I suspect that this was as you say arranged by the Dutch, or at least his wife over in France.”

“The Scots challenged them and they claimed that they were waiting to be careened²”, Stephen said. “Plenty of other places along the coast where they could do that without sailing up the Tyne.”

“Maybe they fancied a cruise?” Jamie grinned. 

His lover swatted at him.

“I have also heard back from Cromwell”, Stephen said, rolling his eyes at his impossible lover. “He has someone he thinks would do well in this seat, a Captain Peter Quicksilver. He says that the fellow will divert here on his way back to London next week, and if I am happy with him then he will move the writ for the by-election.”

“Can you afford to be unhappy with him?” Jamie smiled.

“If he is some sort of extremist or another Lord Grayland in the making, then I will”, Stephen said firmly. “I know that only eight men have the vote in this place but I consider myself responsible for all the people who live in this area³. It may not be much of an area, but I still care for it.”

“Even though it is ostensibly your elder brother's, and will one day be young Edward's”, Jamie pointed out. “That will be a battle, when the truth about him comes out.”

“Hopefully we can defer that until he is married and Thunor has given him several heirs to secure his line”, Stephen said. “Besides, if anyone looks like causing trouble before them we can always set her on them. Or even worse – read them one of Aunt Agnes's stories!”

Jamie chuckled at that.

MDCXLVI

**November 1646**  
 **Stalwarton, Oxfordshire, ENGLAND**

Captain Peter Quicksilver did indeed make a good impression on both men, although both thought his preference for grey clothing – possibly in relation to his unusual surname – a bit odd. He was also one of those tall, shambling fellows whose movements always looked as if his brain was not quite in control of his body, but Stephen was not fooled. Anyone who served under Cromwell had to be an excellent soldier or they would have been out of a job. He therefore had no hesitation in asking him to convey to parliament that there was to be a by-election in the seat of Forston and Byteby. 

It was also fortunate that the vicar over in the village of Daring, on the eastern edges of the main Bradstock estate, was resigning as he was both getting on and did not like the change of ownership that had resulted when Stephen had acquired the area for the estate. It had originally been part of Lord Grayland's estate which he had had to sell to parliament as the price of their forbearance, and buying it would, the nobleman knew, upset their unpleasant neighbour deeply.

Ah well.

MDCXLVI

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _1) Then still a novelty, having evolved from an item of headwear called a kerchief (from a French word meaning 'head covering)._   
>  _2) The process of grounding a vessel at high tide in order to clean barnacles and other sea-creatures off a ship's keel to make it more efficient. It was particularly important until around the American War of Independence, when after the poor performance of its ships copper-bottoming was implemented as a matter of urgency by the Royal Navy._   
>  _3) Like all English counties regardless of their size, Oxfordshire had two county seats with a total electorate of some 4,000 men. Free men had the vote in returning two members each for New Woodstock (180 men and only a few miles from Stalwarton) and the city of Oxford (1,400 men), while the eighteen men of the town corporation chose one member for Banbury. Also Oxford University got to return two members, making a total of nine. Today (2020) in a chamber nearly a third larger the county has only four seats plus one that it shares with Berkshire._


	7. Until.....

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> November-December 1646.   
> Parliament does indeed decide that the middle of England is the best place to keep the king while they work out what to do with him. Captain Peter Quicksilver is duly elected with one hundred per cent (all eight) of the electorate backing him. One of the less pleasant workers on the estate is gulled into doing something stupid (again), then 'invited' to leave. And Luke Amerike is set to become a father again.

**November 1646**   
**Stalwarton, Oxfordshire, ENGLAND**

“I do not know if this is good news or not at the end of the day”, Stephen told Jamie as they recovered their breaths in the study. They had had to dash for the Hall when a walk on a rare sunny day had ended with an unexpected downpour which had caught them unprepared.

Jamie sighed and turned to the fire, raising the back of his kilt and sighing happily.

“Not for most of the Irish, now that the Confederates have given up on Dublin and gone back to raiding”, he said. “It is a pity – from their point of view - that they did not have some charismatic leader else they might have made more gains or even threatened the capital there, but it will not be long before our soldiers are crossing the Irish Sea to sort things out.”

“Hopefully our paid soldiers”, Stephen said, smiling as his lover burned his bannocks against the fire. “The Scots have said that they will demand a substantial down payment before they hand the king over, and your parliament is still dithering over raising it.”

“For want of a few pounds the peace was lost”, Jamie agreed. “Remember Scarborough? We expended months in a siege as well as the life of poor Meldrum; all that money then they went and stopped paying our men until they rebelled! Ridiculous!”

“It does not seem ten years since the king was threatening the life of poor Balmerino”, Stephen reminisced. “I wish that they could just sort it all out and we could get back to peace, especially with the country in such poor shape.”

MDCXLVI

**November 1646**  
 **Stalwarton, Oxfordshire, ENGLAND**

Stephen had not seen his son for some time, as first both his grandchildren had been ill and he had not wanted to risk a visit, then Luke and Anne had had to hurry off to the Fens as an aunt whom most people had forgotten even existed had left his daughter-in-law a small estate in her will which had meant that lots of papers needed signing. Now they were back – and with news.

“You dog, you!” Jamie grinned. “You really need to let poor Anne have a rest, you know.”

Luke looked at him coolly.

“I could make a remark about pots and kettles there”, he said pointedly, “but I shall not. Even if my father is trying to hide a yawn over there for reasons that I do not wish to think about.”

Jamie chuckled, unabashed as always.

“Well, it involved a maid's costume....”

He stopped right there, as the look that he was getting had become positively murderous!

“I have still not forgiven _you_ for giving Anne ideas!” he snapped. “I have an estate to attend to yet some days I am in little better a state than what is left of my father over there!”

Stephen scowled at that. Or at least he tried to. Those facial muscles took a lot of co-ordinating. His son rolled his eyes at him.

“So were any of my suggestions good?” Jamie asked.

Luke just shook his head at him.

“You are impossible!” he sighed.

Jamie just looked at him. The young man blushed.

“All right, they were, but that is not the point!”

“Excellent!” Jamie grinned. “I have a whole load more ideas that....”

“You bloody dare!”

Stephen would have laughed at his lover's smirk, but for some reason he felt himself falling asleep.

MDCXLVI

**December 1646**  
 **Stalwarton, Oxfordshire, ENGLAND**

“And so I declare Captain Peter Quicksilver duly elected as the member for Forston and Byteby.”

Stephen had to admit that his estate workers were good. Not a single man as much as sniggered at their new member's name, and it was surely not because Jamie was very pointedly eyeing them and playing with his dagger. Nor because they were all hovering near the spread of food that, as was traditional, had been laid on for the obliging voters in return for doing their duty.

The new member of parliament stepped forward, and Stephen could almost hear the suppressed groans. He was going to make a speech and delay the food even more. 

Fortunately Forston's (and Byteby's) new representative managed to say exactly the right thing.

“I won. Thanks, folks. Food time!”

That earned him a very hearty round of applause, quite impressive as those clapping were also making their way to the food tables. Stephen smiled. Their new member of parliament would do just fine.

MDCXLVI

“I do not see why parliament had to say such a thing”, the nobleman said to his lover later that same day. “They will have the king to hand any day now, yet asserting that they alone have the right to the king's person – it will annoy your countrymen for no good reason, especially as he is their king as much as ours.”

“I rather think that the 'hands off' was directed not so much to Edinburgh as rather closer to home”, Jamie said. 

“The Army?” Stephen asked. “You are not suggesting that Cromwell is plotting to seize the king, surely?”

“I have seen many politicians in my time”, Jamie said, “many of whom I deeply regretted not encountering on the battlefield at the wrong end of my sword. No, Cromwell is not such a man. At least not yet.”

Stephen looked at him in confusion.

“What do you mean, 'not yet'?” he asked.

“I have seen his sort before”, Jamie said. “We both know that in some ways he is more conservative than the king. He believes in fighting when one needs to fight then accepting God's judgement on the battlefield whether it goes for or against you. When he realizes that this king will never accept that judgement – why should he, being God's anointed? - then he will find himself in a bind. If he is crossed, then Charles Stuart may not live to regret it.”

Stephen thought that that sounded bad, but worse, it sounded all too likely.

MDCXLVI

**December 1646**  
 **Stalwarton, Oxfordshire, ENGLAND**

Stephen scowled as he handed over the coins to his lover. He did not know what was more annoying; the idiot getting shot at or the same idiot smirking at having won his bet that that fool Baldwin could not reach the end of the year before doing something dumb.

What was he thinking? It had to be that damn smirk!

Thankfully the safeguard of having Mr. Baldwin's brothers stand as surety for his behaviour had worked well, for they had come to Stephen to report that their errant brother had visited Lord Grayland and suggested a raid on the granaries. Some careful leaking of rumours about new and better armed guards being brought up from London had brought forward said raid, during which one of their neighbour's men had shot at Jamie. Thankfully it was only a graze but Stephen was furious when all four attackers were brought before him, having been marched through the snowy night. Baldwin was given until sunrise to quit his cottage and Lord Grayland's men were stripped of everything save their shoes and left to walk the six or so miles back to their master's house. And they were told that Jamie would start tracking them an hour from hence so they had better get a move on!

Instead of which a smirking soldier was clearly enjoying his lover playing nurse. Which reminded Stephen, he had that doctor's outfit in their wardrobe....

They were probably both going to hell, but who cared?

MDCXLVI

**December 1646**  
 **Stalwarton, Oxfordshire, ENGLAND**

Yuletide. A time of peace, and goodwill to all men. But apparently not to all kings.

“Holmby House¹.”

Jamie looked at his lover.

“Where is that?” he asked.

“The top end of Northamptonshire, about forty miles north of here”, Stephen said. “And only a few miles from Naseby, the scene of his last great defeat. I am sure, though, that the king will be given all the respect he deserves.”

“He will”, Jamie said. “Unless he goes and does something stupid.”

Sadly they both knew that that last statement was definitely more an 'until' than an 'unless'. They held each other close as the year moved towards its close and wondered what 1647 would have in store for them both.

MDCXLVI

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _1) A country house (the village is now called Holdenby) which lay about four miles north-west of Northampton, three miles east of Watford Gap Services on the M1 and only a mile north-east of Althorp House, home of Lady Diana Spencer (1961-1997). It was mostly demolished soon after and only the gatehouse and garden survive, but they are still impressive and worth a visit if you are in the area._


	8. Scandalous Pamphlets And Ballads

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> January-February 1647.   
> A curious interlude year begins, which will bring neither fighting nor peace as the king tries every trick in and out of the book to divide his enemies. After some delayed news from the previous year reaches what is left of Stephen Roger Amerike during his Yuletide celebrations (see under insatiable horny Winter Soldiers who just keep on keeping on all through winter), all seems to be going swimmingly. A visitor to the hall falls asleep and parliament decides that it is illegal for anyone to poke fun at politicians.

**January 1647**   
**Stalwarton, Oxfordshire, ENGLAND**

It was New Year's Day. Possibly. Or maybe still the previous year; Stephen was not entirely sure. The only certainties in his life were a wish for certain body parts to re-establish contact with his brain, and a desire to swat some smirking well-hung soldier for a certain nobleman's current arguably less than perfect togetherness.

“Fraser called by while I was downstairs”, Jamie said, looking irritatingly unruffled for some who had... well for someone who _had._ “He brought some news from Oxford.”

I am surprised given the day that he is not in as bad a state as I am”, Stephen grumbled. “Especially as he is full two decades older.”

“Actually it was Chatton who was down in Oxford yesterday”, Jamie grinned, “and he meant to bring the news to us straight away. But he stopped by his cottage first, one thing led to another... you know how some men are.”

 _“I so do!”_ Stephen muttered.

“So he sent Fraser up today”, the soldier smirked. “He was in dreadful shape but apparently Chatton promised him a reward if he made it back before lunch, so he was eager to be off.”

“Glutton for punishment, then”, Stephen said, shifting his position slightly then wincing and letting out a small cry of pain.

“AAAIIIIIEEEEEEE!”

Even with his eyes watering, he could still see the smirk.

“I had better tell you the news while your hearing is still functioning”, he heard Jamie say. “The king made an escape attempt over Christmas but was caught, and his guard has been doubled.”

Stephen made the mistake of suddenly opening his eyes at that, and remembered too late while he had been squinting all morning. It was far too bright in this room.

“It was bound to happen”, he sighed, retreating to the comforting darkness of the covers. “The sooner he is handed over, the better.”

Then he felt his lover slipping in behind him. His naked lover. Lord help him!

MDCXLVII

Whatever day or year it was, the Lord was not in a helpful mood just then.

MDCXLVII

**January 1647**  
 **Stalwarton, Oxfordshire, ENGLAND**

Stephen was to get something towards his regal request a couple of weeks later when he received a letter from his cousin Peter up in Wormit.

“He says that the Estates have voted to hand the king over, but only if they receive at least one-quarter of the agreed amount”, he said. “One hundred thousand pounds. That will not be easy.”

“Will your brother contribute?” Jamie asked.

“Peter says that he has written to him at the same time, so I suspect so”, Stephen said. “It is always better to be among the first to pay up; parliament nearly always comes up short then expects the johnny-come-latelys who are last to open their purses to make up the shortfall.”

“So cynical for a man nearly forty!” Jamie teased.

“I am thirty-eight and over a week younger than you”, Stephen said loftily.

Jamie just looked at him. Stephen looked back, then gulped. Come on, he had barely recovered from the last session!

MDCXLVII

**January 1647**  
 **Stalwarton, Oxfordshire, ENGLAND**

“My fellow countrymen will be marching out of Newcastle today and heading home”, Jamie said, smiling as he looked at the human wreckage that was his lover. “We all enjoy heading home, do we not my love?”

Stephen would have swatted at him but that would have entailed the operation of body parts that had once again stopped talking to his brain. His lover had clearly decided that never mind life beginning at forty; the nobleman's might well end before thirty-nine if this kept up!

“And likely jeered all the way to the Border”, Stephen managed. “All the news-sheets are accusing them of selling the king for profit.”

“Hardly a profit as it is no more than the moneys owed to them for services rendered”, Jamie said. “Does my liege need any more services rendered, perchance?”

Stephen just moaned. This fellow was most definitely trying to end him and.... oh Lord, that magic hand of his was heading south again. Lord have mercy!

MDCXLVII

The Lord did not - _again!_

MDCXLVII

**February 1647**  
 **Stalwarton, Oxfordshire, ENGLAND**

“Cromwell has tasked Captain Quicksilver with keeping an eye on events at Westminster”, Stephen told his lover as they sat watching the autumn rain fall steadily outside the study window. It had not let up for days and both men were itching to be out and around the estate, although the nobleman would have admitted that there was also something to be said for just holding each other like this.

“Very wise”, Jamie said. “You only have to look at the German wars to see how politicians can mess things up. There have been relatively few major battles except for those around the French borders in the past few years, yet peace talks crawl on with all the speed of a crushed snail!”

“Plus there is still Ireland to sort out”, Stephen sighed. “Once we have better weather then we can get at least some men over there; I only hope parliament will not do anything stupid like try to send the New Model Army over without first sorting out their back-pay.”

His lover just looked at him.

“What?” Stephen asked.

“You think that your former colleagues, to wit politicians, might not do anything stupid”, Jamie echoed. “You _do_ remember them, do you not?”

Stephen scowled. His former colleagues were not that bad and..... and.... damnation, his lover had a point. 

Still, there was no need for him to smirk like that!

MDCXLVII

**February 1647**  
 **Stalwarton, Oxfordshire, ENGLAND**

They had some unexpected visitors to the Hall a few days later, Stephen's half-brother Thor and the latter's lover Brennus. Thor in particular looked in poor shape even if he swatted away his lover's offer to help him up the Hall steps. The blond sank into the most comfortable chair in the study (Stephen's own) and rolled his eyes when his lover immediately worked his way in behind him.

“I had a letter from Vale down in London”, Thor told them, yawning as his lover manoeuvred him into position on his lap. “What am I, Bren – some sort of sex toy for your gratification?”

“Glad you finally worked it out, my liege”, his lover grinned. Thor rolled his eyes at him but continued.

“He and Diana are doing nicely”, he said. “They have moved into the middle of the three houses and have rented out the small room above the bakery. And he says that if he ever sees this villain anywhere near his wife again, he will shoot him!”

He looked pointedly at Jamie who shrugged his shoulders.

“If Diana does to him what Bren has clearly done to you”, the soldier smiled, “I doubt that either of you would have the strength to hold a gun!”

“Mr. Buchanan is very learnéd when it comes to matters of the bedchamber”, Bren grinned, wrapping two beefy arms around his lover who rolled his eyes but did not object. “All that foreign travel, I suppose. I did mention to the love of my life here that we might borrow some of your boxes while we were here. It was just like when I read his mother's writings.”

“How?” Stephen asked, puzzled at the comparison.

“Because just the threat meant he agreed to do whatever I wanted!” Bren grinned. “Poor fellow will probably need a lie-down before we can start back.”

“You are not that good!” Thor said, failing to stifle a yawn.

His lover just looked at him.

“Shut up!”

The other three men all laughed as he subsided even deeper into his lover's embrace, and sure enough, less than ten minutes later he was fast asleep.

MDCXLVII

Stephen's cousin (who had been mortified when he had woken up over an hour later!) also told them that there had been further news from London in that parliament had decided to suppress 'scandalous pamphlets and ballads'. Jamie laughed at that.

“Politicians!” he snorted. “They take themselves so seriously that everyone laughs at them, then decide that the best way to stop that is to make making fun of them illegal. It is like this war on Christmas; totally unnecessary and one that they will never win.”

“But perhaps a useful way of keeping the chamber united”, Stephen pointed out. “They are slowly refilling the place with by-elections and the balance between Presbyterians and Independents is, to the surprise of many being maintained. No matter what their religious or political beliefs, all politicians will unite in defending their own self-interests, as Pym did so adroitly when this mess started.”

Jamie thought for a moment on that.

“It is just over five years since the king stormed into the chamber and demanded the arrest of the Five Members”, he said.

“I remember it well”, Stephen said. “And his men outside, priming their guns and making down their targets through the open doorway. I would wager that the king wishes that he had handled that better now.”

“Why should he?” Jamie asked. “He is God's chosen one, remember? He cannot do wrong.”

“He seems to be have done a damn good job of doing wrong so far!” Stephen snorted.

MDCXLVII


	9. Requests

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> March 1647.   
> Parliament decides to request the New Model Army to disband, but for some strange reason the soldiers want their pay first (one might almost think that they did not trust the politicians for some strange and inexplicable reason!). Meanwhile young Edward Stark has to buy an engagement ring and Jamie closes the curtains because... have you been paying attention to this story?

**March 1647**   
**Stalwarton, Oxfordshire, ENGLAND**

“At least all those rumours about the French making Prince Rupert governor of Dunkirk proved false”, Stephen said. The steady February rain had given way to some steady March drizzle, and both men were keeping an anxious eye on the high levels of water in the Sewell. The fields down the valley at Knollsmere were meant to be flooded in order to spare more valuable ground elsewhere, much as Stephen would liked to have avoided that.

“I rather think that Paris will be more concerned that their Irish dealings have come out”, Jamie said. “We all knew that both the French and Spanish were supporting the Confederate rebels – that sort of thing is standard diplomatic practice – but trying to engineer an alliance between the rebels and the king's forces to provide him with his long promised Irish army – that will only lead to trouble.”

“The religious differences will make any battles fought in Ireland bitter enough without adding in the standard hatred of the old enemy across the Channel”, Stephen agreed. “I would wager that the French would prefer a weakened king back on his throne as that would keep us out of Continental politics for a time, and also likely hinder the development of our New World colonies while they press on with their own.”

“I wonder what the king's attitude towards that sort of thing will be now?” Jamie mused. “When he was strong before all this began, he hated the idea that anyone could escape his all-perfect Laudian vision of how England should be. I suppose one might look far into the future and see that these colonies, if they survive, might themselves become powerful and remember their rebellious origins, but that is a problem that would have laid many years ahead?”

“Except that one of those who he refused permission to leave was a certain Mr. Oliver Cromwell”, Stephen said. “I would wager that the king is fretting more about his son being in the hands of his Catholic wife just now, and that the boy might be pressured to abandon the Faith. No, he will not do anything that would in his mind endanger his family's hold on what God has given them, no matter how distant and unlikely such a danger might be. Even if it cost him his own life.”

Both men would have cause to remember that last sentence.

MDCXLVII

**March 1647**  
 **Stalwarton, Oxfordshire, ENGLAND**

A very earnest-looking Edward Stark stood before Stephen, looking unusually perplexed.

“I need to ask your advice, sir”, he said. “Mr. Buchanan might help too.”

“What is it, Edward?” Stephen asked.

“I have to buy an engagement ring.”

Stephen was more than a little surprised, as clearly was his lover, although they both covered it well enough.

“You _have_ to?” Stephen asked.

“Thunor says I have to”, the boy sighed. “She is twelve next month and.... you know.”

Unfortunately Stephen did 'know'. Twelve¹ was the legal minimum age for an actual marriage (as opposed to a betrothal which could be arranged any time after birth), and women were expected to start childbearing soon after. Thankfully the terrifying Thunor had very clearly told her future husband that they would not be having the marriage ceremony itself until she was eighteen after which they would..... that. 

Even so, the boy looked worried.

“Has Thunor said what she likes?” Jamie asked.

“Silver and plain”, the boy said. “And I have to have it ready in time for her birthday.”

Stephen thought wryly that some males these days were so whipped and if that was a smirk on someone's face then that Winter Soldier was not getting any this side of All Fool's Day!

“She should be there in person”, he pointed out, “as the jeweller would need to measure her fingers.”

Edward shook his head and reached into his pocket.

“She gave this ring from her grandmother”, he said, shuddering for reasons that both men would well guess. “And she said that if I failed to come through, she would tell me the story that it featured in. One involving an Egyptian Pharaoh who fell asleep in the wrong room and was inadvertently stuffed while still alive, the taxidermist pushing it in through his.....”

“We will take you down to the jeweller in Oxford immediately after dinner!” Stephen said quickly.

The boy looked incredibly relieved.

“Thank you so much, sirs!”

MDCXLVII

**March 1647**  
 **Stalwarton, Oxfordshire, ENGLAND**

Two days later and Stephen was still desperately trying not to think about Egyptian Pharaohs. And he had stuffing taken off the list for Sunday dinner. He should likely have been grateful that he had a distraction in the form of another letter from Captain Quicksilver, but the news contained in it was depressing.

“I cannot believe that the Lords could be so stupid!” the nobleman grumbled. “Refusing to levy any more taxes 'because the country has suffered enough'? Where do they think the money is going to come from to pay all the soldiers?”

“Plus this telling them that they cannot quarter themselves on the Eastern Association”, Jamie agreed. “One of the few areas in the country that has suffered relatively little in this contention. Just what do they think the men who won the war for them should do, then? Live off fresh air?”

“My replacement states that the mood among his soldier friends is turning ugly”, Stephen sighed. “Little surprise there, I have to say. Having won this war on the battlefield, parliament seems determined to 'do a Scarborough' and lose it in the peace talks. What a mess!”

MDCXLVII

**March 1647**  
 **Stalwarton, Oxfordshire, ENGLAND**

It was about a week later, and the one good thing was that young Edward Stark looked a lot happier. The jeweller down in Oxford had promised him that his two rings would be ready for collection well before the end of the month; all three men had sighed with relief at that. Agnes Bradstock's stories were best appreciated by someone out of hearing distance!

Edward's studies were also progressing well and he was spending more time on the estate accounts, making his own notes and observations on how things were being run and might be improved. He was Stephen knew very pleased with the way his guardian was handling things; far too many relatives in the nobleman's position abused it and enriched themselves at their charges' expense, leaving them with little if anything to inherit when they finally came of age. 

The boy looked concerned as the nobleman limped to the breakfast-table that morning. Stephen blushed.

“Jamie surprised me with developments from Wales”, he explained. “Harlech Castle², the king's very last bastion, has fallen. Unfortunately I.... fell out of bed at the news and hurt my ankle.”

A certain Winter Soldier who had given him rather more than just 'news' sniggered most unhelpfully, then blushed when Edward looked sharply at him.

“Mr. Buchanan”, he said sternly, “that was uncalled for. My guardian could not help falling like that.”

“I am sorry”, Jamie said with his usual zero sincerity. “But I did help get him up again afterwards!”

Stephen glared himself at the bastard. So not helping with the innuendos!

MDCXLVII

**March 1647**  
 **Stalwarton, Oxfordshire, ENGLAND**

It was a few days later and Stephen was still smiling when he picked up his latest letter. He and Jamie had accompanied a fretful Edward down to collect his rings, and so nervous had the boy been about something going wrong that they had taken Fraser and Chatton with them as extra guards for their precious cargo on the way back. The nobleman had locked the rings in his safe for extra security, and Edward had gone off to write to his future wife that all had been arranged and he would see her on her birthday in two weeks' time.

Unfortunately the contents of this latest letter were such that it very swiftly wiped the smile off Stephen's face. He read it again to make sure, then frowned.

“How bad is it?” Jamie asked from across the room.

“It could hardly be worse”, Stephen sighed. “Parliament decided that having told the men who won the war for them that there would be no money to pay them, the best thing to do was to send some of them off to Ireland while disbanding most of the rest. They sent a deputation to tell them this – they are at Saffron Walden in northern Essex just now – and it was not well received.”

“Let me guess”, Jamie snarked. “For some strange, inexplicable and utterly unforeseeable reason a large group of well-trained and heavily-armed men declined to trust them? Next thing, you will be telling me that the sky is blue!”

Stephen rolled his eyes at the snarky bastard.

“They had clearly been tipped off because they had a list of demands for the members to take back to parliament”, he said. “Full settlement of back-pay, a guaranteed indemnity³, pensions for all, and no forced shipment to Ireland, only volunteers.”

Jamie nodded. 

“They picked several of their members to formally hand over their demands of parliament”, Stephen went on. “This is from Cromwell; he is sending Ireton of course, Lilburne – that is probably just for some peace and quiet! – and someone called Pride.”

“Tom Pride”, Jamie said. “A bit of an enigma, he. About our age, all the stories about him say that he was brought up on the poor rates of St. Bride's parish in London – hence his name – but the one time I spoke to him he had the same Somersetshire accent as a fellow I served with back in Germany. Very distinctive, from the west of that county and quite different to the one from the east. Pride is or claims to have been a drayman's son before the war, so now he is delivering petitions rather than beer.”

“I am sure that my former colleagues would rather have had the beer”, Stephen sighed. “I only hope that they do not do anything stupid like trying to seize the petitioners; they might remember that that sort of thing started this war.”

MDCXLVII

**March 1647**  
 **Stalwarton, Oxfordshire, ENGLAND**

It was the following week, a week of heavy spring rains which had soaked the land and caused more flooding down at Knollsmere. Thankfully the skies were now clear and, Jamie had said, likely to remain such for a while.

“Captain Quicksilver writes that the Army petition was, and I report 'ill received'”, Stephen said. “It is funny in a way; one might say all this started because of a petition, Balmerino's to the king, yet now parliament is angry that someone is petitioning them!”

“Power corrupts, in my experience”, Jamie said sagely. “Men who have power over others will always abuse it sooner or later. There are few who think of others at such times.”

Stephen nodded, and only slowly realized that his lover was giving him that look. 

“Dinner is in barely half an hour”, he pointed out.

“Then we do not have time to go upstairs”, Jamie grinned. “You can lock the door and I will close the curtains.”

Stephen sighed but did as he was told. His lover was dreadful, really!

MDCXLVII

Jamie had to fetch dinner back into the study because 'someone' could not make it off the couch. Even if said 'someone' was smiling broadly!

MDCXLVII

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _1) Lady Margaret Beaufort (1443-1509) was the most famous example of this. As a child her guardian William Earl of Suffolk married her to his son and heir John when she was about seven, but the marriage was annulled three years later and she was transferred by her cousin King Henry the Sixth to his half-brothers Jasper and Edmund Tudor. The king also arranged her marriage to Edmund despite her being twelve and him twenty-four. Edmund died of the plague in November 1456 and she gave birth to their posthumous son two months later in January 1457 when she was just thirteen. She later remarried but had no more children; her son later became King Henry the Seventh (1485-1509) and she remained a force throughout his reign._   
>  _2) On the Merioneth-shire coast, the famous song associated with it likely referencing the siege (1461-1468) during the Wars of the Roses. That was to be the longest ever siege in the British Isles._   
>  _3) Legal protection against any future actions by disgruntled people who had been crossed by the soldiers, such as Royalists who had had their lands seized and their property taken or destroyed. A very wise precaution._


	10. Agitation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> April to May 1647.   
> Tensions flare in London and two men have to be restrained from fighting a duel. The attempt to persuade volunteers to fight in Ireland is a spectacular failure which leads parliament, anxious about extremism in the Army, to seemingly agree to the soldiers' demands. But the king then wrecks everything by offering to work with Westminster, successfully reopening the divisions among his enemies. Meanwhile Stephen has a long, hard weekend after some unwise remarks about his political replacement.

**April 1647**   
**Stalwarton, Oxfordshire, ENGLAND**

Stephen's eyebrows shot up as he read his latest letter from London.

“More bad news?” Jamie hazarded.

“I do not believe it!” the nobleman exclaimed. “Holles and Ireton have only been narrowly stopped from fighting a duel!”

Jamie shook his head in disbelief.

“Politicians!” he snorted. “Someone goes and says or does something that upsets their tender sensibilities, and they throw a hissy-fit. They have all the backbone of a snowflake, some of them!”

“It shows how high tempers are running just now”, Stephen said worriedly. “That is not good. It will only need a spark to set it off, and we may have a renewal of the war just when we thought it was all over.”

“Would even parliament be that stupid?” Jamie wondered.

“They might not be”, Stephen conceded, “but everyone just wants this thing settled. The longer the king prevaricates, the more tensions will escalate. He may think that that is a good thing in that it divides his enemies, but if he does split off one or more of his enemies and the war starts up again, people will never forgive him.”

“I thought we agreed that Cromwell, for all his Leveller inclinations, was a conservative at heart?” Jamie asked.

“He is”, Stephen said worriedly, “but he is also determined to do what is best for England. And that means reaching a settlement with – or without – the king.”

His lover knew full well what he had left unsaid there.

MDCXLVII

**April 1647**  
 **Stalwarton, Oxfordshire, ENGLAND**

“I sometimes wonder how Quickie can keep a straight face when writing this tosh!”

Jamie looked curiously at his lover.

“Quickie?” he questioned.

“Captain Quicksilver”, Stephen clarified. “His father is Peter as well. This report to parliament that 'our call for volunteers to assist with the situation in Ireland has met with a less than enthusiastic response'. Better than saying 'we got less than a thousand men, and when they realized we were planning to cheat them of their pay like we did everyone else, they all hopped it back to their regiments'!”

Jamie nodded. Stephen bit back a smile and started counting to himself. He did not reach double figures before it happened.

“You call him Quickie”, Jamie said, a shade too casually.

“He is a very decent fellow”, Stephen said. “I know he had weird taste in colours and is ridiculously tall but I suppose all those extra inches come in useful when intimidating the men. And opponents on the battlefield.”

“I suppose so.”

Stephen made it to eleven this time.

“I do not remember him saying, but is he married?”

“No”, Stephen said. “I asked him that as part of his being my replacement, but he said that a soldier's life was not something that he would wish to subject anyone to. Very considerate of him, I thought. I did wonder of course, especially when he looked for a shade too long at Chatton when he came in. But then he saw Fraser behind him, which would deter any man with sense.”

“Also he is a politician now”, Jamie pointed out.

“Yes, and I said that”, Stephen said. “But he said that he actually likes the single life.”

“I see.”

The conversation ended there, and Stephen wondered..... Saturday or Sunday?

MDCXLVII

Actually the answer was Monday, four days away. Jamie was not best pleased at his lover even saying good things about another man¹, least of all one based in the area, and had made his displeasure very forcibly felt such that Stephen had to spend the whole weekend in bed with his Winter Soldier. 

There were, he supposed, worse fates.

MDCXLVII

**May 1647**  
 **Stalwarton, Oxfordshire, ENGLAND**

“I do not see why the Army allows agitators in its ranks”, Edward said over their May Day dinner.

Jamie smiled at the boy. Stephen had been called away by a minor crisis in the village that had needed his attention, but he would be back shortly.

“They do not, Edward”, he said. “It is just a word with more than one meaning. In the Army, an Agitator is someone who represents the men lower down to those higher up. As you know, to agitate means to stir up as in when you agitate the water in a bath, so Agitators – with a capital – stir up the problems of those whose voices otherwise might go unheard.”

“So they are not out to cause trouble, then?” the boy asked.

“Doubtless some are”, Jamie said, “for as we have seen of late, any position of power is open to abuse, from the king downwards. Society needs a balance, which is why those at the top need to listen to those lower down. Not to always do every single thing they want – that would be ridiculous – but to at least let them say when something is wrong. Do you remember that time Stephen told you about Lord Balmerino?”

“The Scottish gentleman who wanted to ask the king to sort a problem, so the king had him arrested”, the boy said at once. “Silly.”

“We have all seen what that led to”, Jamie said. “Being an adult means lots of difficult choices like that, but then life was not meant to be easy.”

“Especially for my poor guardian”, the boy sighed. “He looked in a terrible state on Monday. I do think he needs more sleep, Mr. Buchanan.”

“Do not worry, Edward”, Jamie smiled. “He had a nap in his study morning.”

The boy frowned at that. 

“What is the matter?” the soldier asked.

“He must have had a nightmare then”, the boy said. “I was passing his door on my way to fetch something that I had left in the gallery, and I heard him screaming 'oh God, not again!'.”

Jamie had to work hard not to blush.

MDCXLVII

**May 1647**  
 **Stalwarton, Oxfordshire, ENGLAND**

Stephen tried to keep any bad language to when his charge was not around. But when he read the letter from his cousin down in London, he could not forbear from letting out an oath.

“Sorry, Edward”, he said shamefacedly. “But this is terrible news!”

“Has someone died, sir?” the boy asked.

“No, but many men may as a result of this”, Stephen said. “Miss Prince has learned that the King has secretly agreed to a revised version of the Nineteen Provisions with parliament.”

The boy frowned.

“But is that not a good thing, sir?” he asked.

“With any other king it might be, Edward”, Jamie said, “but not this one. It is not a real agreement, just a pretence. You are a smart fellow, so think on it. What will parliament do now that they think they can strike a deal with the king?”

The boy blushed at the praise but dutifully thought. Then his eyes widened.

“They will speed up their plans to try to get rid of the army”, he said. “An army that has guns.”

“As I said, smart”, Jamie praised. “Yes, that is the king's intention. I would say that parliament would not be that stupid, but....”

He looked across at his lover, who sighed.

“I know them”, he said heavily. “And yes, they likely will be. Lord help us!”

MDCXLVII

**May 1647**  
 **Stalwarton, Oxfordshire, ENGLAND**

“Well, it took them less than a week”, Jamie said, “and yes, they were that stupid!”

Stephen sighed unhappily.

“Is it official?” he asked. Jamie nodded.

“They are drawing up laws for the enforcement of the disbanding of what they call 'unnecessary regiments'”, the soldier said. “No indemnity, no pensions, no back-pay – just 'please go home and trust us to remember sorting it all out some time in the future if we get round to it'. Exactly the sort of jam tomorrow promises that the king tried to make when he called his early parliaments, only for some of these same politicians to say that he could not be trusted. Well, they should have known!”

“Why can they not see how stupid they are being?” Stephen asked. “I mean, I know that history is all about decision-making and some decisions are bound to be wrong, but when it is as obviously wrong as this, how can they still not see it?”

“Because they see the coins in their own wallets first”, Jamie said, “and cannot understand the dangers ahead. They are like the idiot who keeps poking the rattlesnake right up to the moment it springs forward to bite them – and after that, it is too late!”

MDCXLVII

**May 1647**  
 **Stalwarton, Oxfordshire, ENGLAND**

This month had been particularly hard work for both men as they had been deprived of the services of both their stewards (and not, as some frankly terrible soldier said, because Chatton had finally broken his older lover!). Fraser's uncle up in the Borders had died and left him a sum of money so he had had to go and collect it along with a few other personal items. The elder steward had not asked for Chatton to go with him but it had never even crossed Stephen's mind not to suggest it; keeping the two men apart even for a couple of weeks would have been cruelty.

As things happened Fraser had picked up some interesting information during his time North of the Border. His uncle's son James had married a cousin of Argyll's and so knew a lot about what was happening in Scottish politics. Including one recent and alarming development.

“Was your cousin sure of this, Fraser?” Stephen asked.

“Aye, sir”, the steward said. “He was sure.”

The nobleman knew that it had to have been serious, for the man had called even before heading back to his cottage to rejoin his lover. 

“You seem surprised that your former colleagues could be as devious as the king”, Jamie chuckled. Fraser's news had been that parliament had just sent an emissary to the Covenanters stating that they might have the odd problem with the New Model Army – hah! – and would the Scots mind standing ready to help enforce the Presbyterian system on England at the point of a Caledonian sword? Again?

“I had best be getting back, sirs”, Fraser said. “Chatton.... he worries. And I need my rest to start back tomorrow.”

“You will be taking tomorrow off”, Jamie said firmly, “as will Chatton. You have both travelled several hundred miles on our terrible roads, and one more day covering for you will not hurt either Ste or me.”

Fraser blushed but thanked them both before leaving. Stephen was about to remark how generous that had been of his lover when he caught the fellow's sly smirk. He knew that look.

“What did you do?” he asked, warily.

“I talked to Chatton before he left”, Jamie said, “and agreed that he could borrow all three of our Special Boxes for their return home.”

Stephen sighed. His lover was terrible – and now they would be covering for their stewards all weekend as well!

MDCXLVII

Which they did. And even on Monday, poor Fraser could barely stand!

MDCXLVII

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _1) An astute observer might remember a certain soldier's teasing a certain nobleman about the handsome Thomas Fairfax at this point, but Stephen did not raise that – mainly because raising anything was beyond him for most of that weekend!_


	11. A Cornet Calls

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> June 1647.   
> The king is unexpectedly moved by a Cornet. Stephen and Jamie might think that they are well out of it in Oxford, but although there is good news regarding one Oliver there is more worrisome news over another. Also there are a lot of very angry Reformadoes.

**June 1647**   
**Stalwarton, Oxfordshire, ENGLAND**

“Newmarket¹ Heath.”

Stephen yawned and looked across at his lover, who was once again smirking at the nobleman's wrecked state. Why did he keep the fellow around?

He shifted slightly in his chair and a spasm of pain shot up from the base of his spine making his eyes water. Oh, the sex thing.

“What about it?” he asked.

“Those idiots at Westminster finally made it official”, Jamie grinned. “The disbandment of some regiments and others being sent to Ireland whether they willed it or no. No indemnity, no pensions, and no back-pay, a perfect trifecta of trouble. I would wager that they are still reeling that for some strange and inexplicable reason, a bunch of men armed to the teeth rejected their demands. Fairfax and Cromwell are moving the Army to Newmarket Heath, one of the traditional marshalling grounds.”

“And, as I am sure parliament will note, close to one of the king's palaces”, Stephen said. “He is not that far away, I suppose.”

"Over seventy miles according to your map", Jamie said. "But a small party on horse could cover that distance easily enough. You think that they will try to secure the king?”

“In their position, I would”, Stephen said. “As we both know, all sides still cling to this belief that the king is necessary for some peace deal if only he can be reasoned with. Well, all except the likes of Henry Marten² of course!”

“If the king continues down his current path of deceit and treachery, Marten may well get what he wishes”, Jamie said. “As they rightly say, be careful what you wish for – you may be surprised at what it is like when you get it!”

“You think an English republic impossible?” Stephen asked. 

“People are still too traditional in this country, even with this terrible war”, Jamie said. “Maybe in a future when religion is less important and people are more mature.”

“And when pigs fly!” Stephen snorted.

“And when men can finally marry, so I can make an honest man of you every night!” Jamie grinned. “Fancy a break?”

The nobleman sighed. His lover was.... giving him that look again, damn him! The fellow was impossible!

Stephen still loved him, though.

MDCXLVII

**June 1647**  
 **Stalwarton, Oxfordshire, ENGLAND**

“And this is how history is made”, Stephen sighed as he read his latest letter from Captain Quicksilver. “What is a cornet, Jamie?”

“A musical instrument that you blow hard, like a trumpet”, his lover smiled. “Would you like me to blow you hard in order to demonstrate?”

Stephen was tempted, but business first.

“As in the army ranks”, he pressed. “Captain Quicksilver says that 'Cornet Joyce³ has seized the king from Holmby and taken him to Newmarket.”

“A cornet is the lowest commissioned rank in the army, below a lieutenant”, Jamie said. “That would be George Joyce, one of the 'sound common men' who Cromwell prefers and everyone else frets over as a religious extremist. Why has he done that, does it say?”

“He was sent to Holmby to secure the king”, Stephen said, “but the Presbyterian commander in charge there fled to London and Joyce was warned that he would likely be back with reinforcements. So he took a vote of his men and they decided to move the king to join the Army.”

Jamie looked at him uncertainly.

“Cromwell?” he ventured.

“He is down in Westminster just now”, Stephen said, “but that would not have precluded him from setting this up before he left his men with Fairfax. Whatever we think about him the king is still a piece in this game – and now the Army has him. What will parliament do about that, I wonder?”

MDCXLVII

**June 1647**  
 **Stalwarton, Oxfordshire, ENGLAND**

In fact they had already done something, and news of it reached Stalwarton later the following day courtesy of Stephen's cousin Vale. The nobleman sighed when he read it.

“Those idiots in Westminster were thinking about trying to impeach Cromwell”, he said, “but he must have heard about it and has gone back to his men. Fools! How do they think the Army will take such a move?”

“It is almost as if they believe they have some God-given right to rule which no-one can question”, Jamie observed. “Now who does that remind me of? Tip of my tongue....”

Stephen rolled his eyes at the snarky bastard.

MDCXLVII

It was to prove a busy day, as shortly before dinner they had a visitor. A welcome and expected one, thankfully.

“Anne gave birth to a healthy son late yesterday”, Luke smiled, sitting down in the study. “We had already decided that he is to be called Oliver after his grandfather, and late uncle. Oliver Cromwell Amerike.”

Both men knew that the choice was likely also political, but did not say as much.

“A good name”, Stephen said instead. “She is well?”

“Anne always recovers quickly after childbirth”, his son said, “and said she wanted me to let you know the news as soon as possible. I do not cope as well so she was glad to have me out from under her feet for a while. Father, why are you wearing a kilt? It is not a special day or anything, is it?”

Stephen blushed. His son looked at him curiously before he got it.

“Not again!” he exclaimed. “Uncle Jamie!”

“Better air circulation for all that soreness!” the soldier grinned.

“You..... honestly, you are terrible!” Luke exclaimed.

“Actually your father said I was rather good....”

The soldier stopped there as the younger man was giving him the sort of look that said grievous bodily harm was on the cards if he did not. So he settled for a smirk instead, especially when his lover winced on moving in his chair.

MDCXLVII

**June 1647**  
 **Stalwarton, Oxfordshire, ENGLAND**

“Now that they have the king, Fairfax and Cromwell have formally declined the politicians' demands to disband”, Stephen said a few days later. “I suppose all those Reformadoes⁴ did not help either.”

A group of former soldiers had stormed the House of Commons a few days back and forced them to agree to settle their back-pay, estimated at some ten thousand pounds⁵. Something that, both men had agreed, would give a certain group of even better armed men up in the East Country 'ideas'.

“Diana says that some in the chamber have opened secret talks with the London Trained Bands”, he went on. “They seem to think that part-time militia can stand against a fully trained and very angry Army many times their size.”

“I shall wager that the moment Fairfax and Cromwell come within sight of the capital, the Bands will all suddenly remember pressing engagements and disappear off”, Jamie said. “Fancy a wager?”

“No way!” Stephen said forcibly. “You always win, damn you, and I get more than enough questions as it is over why I have a padded saddle when I ride around the estate.”

“As opposed to when I ride you around our room”, Jamie grinned. “But I shall let you off for now, especially as Thunor is coming over to terrorize poor Edward. And she always looks at me disapprovingly; she worries I might influence her future husband into the Army.”

“You would not, of course”, Stephen said.

“I would so not!” Jamie said fervently. “I prefer to pick battles that I can win, thank you very much!”

MDCXLVII

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _1) One of many medieval new towns and founded around 1200, it had risen to prominence as a country retreat for James the First who built a palace there and established it as a horse-racing town. The palace was mostly demolished in the Interregnum but a small part survives today as Palace House, the National Horse-racing Museum._   
>  _2) Henry Marten (b. 1602), one of two members of parliament for Berkshire. He had been briefly imprisoned in the Tower back in 1643 for stating that the country should abolish the monarchy and become a republic. The very idea!_   
>  _3) George Joyce, birthdate unknown. Formerly a tailor, he had served in Cromwell's Ironsides which made many suspect the commander's hand in his decision._   
>  _4) Former commanders whose regiments had been disbanded, as had many upon the formation of the New Model Army. These men would retain some higher pay for a while and become common soldiers, awaiting the next Army expansion. And of course their back-pay._   
>  _5) Around £1.4 million ($1.7 million) at 2020 prices._


	12. The Tail Wagging The Dog

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> June-July 1647.   
> Who is in charge just now, as the Army circles London slowly and deliberately, yet even some of its own leaders seem unable to control their men? There is an unmourned departure announcement in Oxfordshire while Stephen again makes sure to take care of the 'little people', and Jamie makes sure to take care of... yup, still that sort of story!

**June 1647**   
**Stalwarton, Oxfordshire, ENGLAND**

“If it is Tuesday, this must be St. Albans!”

Stephen glared at his lover. He was so not funny!

“My former colleagues are learning the hard way that a skilled general like Fairfax can use his talents against them as well as for them”, he said. “Yesterday he had his men more or less due north of the capital at Royston, and today he is slightly north-west. I wonder if he is aiming for Windsor, as that would be a good place in which to store the king while talks happen.”

“If he has any sense he will leave him where he is”, Jamie said. “This king causes trouble wherever he goes, and the nearer he is to London the more he will cause. This latest mess is his fault after all.”

“Also not helped by tight-fisted politicians, you are thinking”, Stephen said. 

“Thank you for my not having to state the obvious!” his lover grinned. “No-one likes paying taxes but to throw away peace for a few pennies like we did at Scarborough – this will rank in history as one of the worst decisions made this century.”

“There is still the king, remember”, Stephen reminded him. “I am sure that he is working on yet another entry in that particular contest!”

MDCXLVII

**June 1647**  
 **Stalwarton, Oxfordshire, ENGLAND**

Stephen stared pointedly at his lover.

“Did Diana tell you anything?” he demanded. 

“She did mention that maybe investors in this New Albion¹ colony might be advised to have moneys elsewhere”, the soldier grinned. “Especially certain local landowners around here who invested heavily in the colony and the ships supplying it.”

“And Lord Grayland's latest wife leaving him at the same moment?” Stephen asked dryly.

“Could any woman be expected to put up with that for any length of time?” Jamie said. “It was a forced marriage for her money, which with his looks and nature was I suppose understandable, but clearly her own family had sense and prevented him being able to get at her capital. Now she has left him – even faster than her predecessors, which was impressive – and his investments are all worthless so he will have to sell up and move. But I am sure north Oxfordshire will somehow bear the loss.”

“He did not try to stop her?” Stephen asked curiously.

“He had an urgent message from his holding up in Stratford that called him away overnight”, Jamie grinned, “and she was gone by the time he got back. Luckily her own family is not far away in Abingdon, and they do not like him at all.”

“You are terrible at times!” Stephen sighed.

“Not always”, Jamie smiled, “but about five minutes from now I will be. See you in our room!”

And with that he strode to the door. Stephen rolled his eyes at his lover but hurried after him. A Jamie celebrating his victories..... well, who needed to walk any time today?

MDCXLVII

**June 1647**  
 **Stalwarton, Oxfordshire, ENGLAND**

There was news from an unexpected quarter that interrupted the political focus on London, if briefly. Stephen frowned as he read his letter.

“Bad news?” Jamie asked.

His lover nodded.

“Most of the remaining Irish soldiers in Scotland managed to get home”, he said, “but they had to leave some five hundred behind at a castle called Dunaverty² on the southern tip of Kintyre. Leslie managed to besiege them and he has massacred them despite having promised them quarter.”

Jamie sighed unhappily.

“More blood”, he said. “Which will lead to more reprisals. Who will surrender to them in future when they see that sort of thing?”

MDCXLVII

**June 1647**  
 **Stalwarton, Oxfordshire, ENGLAND**

Jamie was surprised.

“Only eleven?” he asked. “That sounds suspiciously reasonable.”

“I think that Fairfax's threat is it only eleven³ _for now”,_ Stephen said. “If the most hard-line opponents of the Army remove themselves from parliament then the Army might be inclined to talk. If they do not, then the figure demanded may start rising.”

“Like you did last night!” Jamie smiled. “Three times! Quite impressive for someone who is nearly forty!”

Stephen blushed.

“Concentrate, you sex-manic!” he grumbled.

“I always do, on things that matter!”

The nobleman rolled his eyes at his lover.

“I think that Westminster will hold to their men, at least at first”, he said. “Parliament stands on the rights and privileges of all members; that is one of its fundamental beliefs. But as all those armed men get ever closer to the capital, the pressure will only increase. We shall soon see if they buckle.”

“Like you did after the third time last night!” Jamie grinned.

Stephen rolled his eyes at the pest. No matter how right he was (very).

MDCXLVII

**June 1647**  
 **Stalwarton, Oxfordshire, ENGLAND**

“Uxbridge”, Stephen sighed. “The place where they had those failed negotiations two years back. I would wager that the king wishes himself back there so that he could accept the deal he was offered.”

“Only so he could go back on his word Lord alone knows what numbered time”, Jamie snorted. “I lost count somewhere in the middle hundreds!”

“Uxbridge is about twenty miles from the capital so not that much closer than St. Albans”, Stephen said, shaking his head at his lover's cynicism. “Although the threat is there; Fairfax is reminding the idiots in Westminster that he can march his men where he wishes, and could take the capital easily enough.”

“Your former colleagues likely believe that the Trained Bands will ride to their rescue”, Jamie said. “I know the Presbyterians are stronger in those units, but as we agreed, one look at what is coming towards them and they will be off!”

“I hope that Vale is all right, as a lawyer for parliament”, Stephen said.

Jamie snorted at that.

“What?” the nobleman asked, nonplussed.

“I would wager that his wife has a whole set of files on the New Model Army”, Jamie said, “and that their leaders have been made fully aware of that fact. The more pious and moralizing a man is, the more likely he is to be doing something covert to let off some steam.”

“And the more certain that Diana will know of it when he does!” Stephen smiled.

MDCXLVII

**June 1647**  
 **Stalwarton, Oxfordshire, ENGLAND**

“You know that someone is stupid when you offer them a way out of a crisis they themselves have caused, yet still they prevaricate.”

Jamie looked expectantly at his lover.

“More news from London?” he asked. Stephen nodded.

“The Eleven Members have requested permission to withdraw from the Commons”, he sighed. “But rather than just accept that, my former colleagues are musing on whether to compel them to stay. Poor Captain Quicksilver says that he has never seen the like of it, and he has worked with some of the roughest men in the Army!”

“For all that we are killing machines, many of my fellow soldiers have a surprising amount of humanity”, Jamie said. “In my experience oftentimes more than the people who send them to war, especially when those self-same people leep 'forgetting' to pay them afterwards. Which reminds me of an estate matter: Jamie Woodsman.”

Stephen blinked at the seeming change of subject.

“Who?” he asked. He prided himself that he knew many of the estate workers, but recent acquisitions like the one up in Chipping Norton and another over Witney way meant there were some names that were unfamiliar to him.

“Fellow who served in the New Model but got invalided out after Stow”, Jamie said. “Talk about unlucky; he joined up just in time for the last battle in the whole conflict yet still got a bad injury. I ran into his wife the other say and she says that he is worried he many not even be able to meet his tithe payments, let alone his estate dues.”

“The dark-avised fellow over in Daring”, Stephen said, placing the name. “That was unlucky for him. I am sure Reverend Forrester would not press him in the circumstances, but why did he not approach me in person?”

“He is not the sort of fellow to ever ask for help, despite having a young family”, Jamie said. “Is there anything we can do?”

Stephen noted the 'we' and narrowly held in a smile. He had always wanted his lover to feel that they were partners in administrating the estate for young Edward, and it warmed him that he now did.

“You might ask him to help guard our granaries this year”, he said, “especially as it looks like being a fairly decent harvest after last year's disaster. I would like to increase the number of men now rather than later; there may be little in the buildings but with Grayland having to quit the area next month I would not put it past him to try one last annoyance before he heads off for.... where is he going again?”

“His brother's place in Carnarvonshire, north Wales”, Jamie said. “Not Timbuctoo as we had all hoped, but I suppose far enough especially given our dreadful road system. There is always the hope that his brother will tire of his attitude like everyone else in his life and throw him into the Irish Sea!”

Stephen chuckled at that.

MDCXLVII

**July 1647**  
 **Stalwarton, Oxfordshire, ENGLAND**

“Fairfax has given the Commons a touch more breathing room”, Stephen told his lover as they enjoyed the evening sun by the lake. The nobleman thought at times like this how wonderful the place looked, even if the country itself was still unsettled. Or as his lover called it, a right royal mess!

“He has backed off?” Jamie asked, surprised.

“Only as far as Reading”, Stephen said as he finished reading his letter. “And where the blazes is this 'Sydenham Poyntz'?”

His lover chuckled.

“Who, not where”, he corrected. “He served over in Germany though not alongside me, though with a name like his I soon heard of him. The unusual name was his mother's maiden one; it certainly made him stand out. He defeated the king at Rowton, the Chester battle, and was heading the Northern Association the last time I heard. What of him?”

“He is not heading it any more”, Stephen said. “His men have seized him on rumours that he had been negotiating with the Scots to join them.”

“And possibly the king too”, Jamie sighed. “If there is villainy and duplicity, one can wager safely enough that someone called Charles Stuart will not be far away if not organizing it outright.”

Stephen would liked to have gainsaid his lover, but he strongly suspected that he was all too right.

MDCXLVII

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _1) An attempted colony based on the Delaware River, in an area already largely controlled by New Sweden. It was finally acknowledged as a failure in 1649._   
>  _2) The massacre was likely ordered by Argyll, as these were his lands. Reports vary as they will, but it seems that the Covenanters killed over three hundred Royalists – around ten times the number killed at the Glencoe Massacre forty-five years later – yet today the Scots choose to remember only one of these. How odd._   
>  _3) The Eleven Members included Denzil Holles, Sir William Waller and Edward Massey of Gloucester fame._


	13. Mobs And Midwives

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> July 1647.   
> London is again the centre of attention as some warlike peace campaigners succeed – briefly. But Commons Speaker William Lenthall objects to being manhandled into doing what the mob wants, and an already confused situation is made even more so when he makes his feeelings clear. For Stephen there is news concerning his irritating younger brother John – very worrying news indeed.

**July 1647**   
**Stalwarton, Oxfordshire, ENGLAND**

“I wish that the Commons would get a move on”, Stephen grumbled a few days later. “Either stand by the Eleven Members and force a showdown which we know they would lose, or just admit defeat.”

“Has something happened?” Jamie asked.

“Ireland”, Stephen sighed. “The Scots have been doing better up in Ulster lately so the Confederates have apparently decided to make one final push against Dublin. They have taken Naas, one of the castles in its outer ring of defences. Cromwell writes that it is about twenty miles out, so we need to get some men over there urgently.”

“Like we did five years ago when king and Commons were in a stalemate before the fighting started”, Jamie said. “Yet still we run circles around each other, achieving nothing. It is pathetic!”

“At least we do not have the same stake in that unhappy island's ruin as so many do”, Stephen reminded him. “Remember how Aidan was offered the chance to purchase a large stake in the place years back, and refused? Young Edward received the same 'generous offer' but declined once you explained it to him.”

“The boy has good sense”, Jamie said. “He will be eighteen next year; we are I suppose fortunate that he is not in so many ways the wayward teenager but then he has Thunor to keep him in line.”

“That is true”, Stephen agreed.

“Of course _some_ teenagers find it impossible to keep it in their trousers!” Jamie said with what was obviously false innocence.

Stephen glared at the teasing bastard. That was just uncalled for!

MDCXLVII

**July 1647**  
 **Stalwarton, Oxfordshire, ENGLAND**

“What do know of a fellow called John Lambert?”

Stephen had thrown the question at his lover carelessly enough, but the hesitation before the soldier answered was itself foreboding.

“He was head of the Northern Association before he got wounded some two years back”, Jamie said, and Stephen noted that he looked unusually thoughtful. “Why do you ask?”

“He has just gotten his old post back, then”, Stephen said. “Fairfax has released Poyntz on parole but has replaced him with Lambert. Is there something that makes you think that an unwise decision?”

Jamie hesitated.

“It is difficult to explain”, he said at last.

“Go on”, Stephen pressed.

“Being a soldier is hard enough”, Jamie said, and his lover noted how carefully he was choosing his words. “You learn to spot many danger signs, especially from those who are fighting on your own side. In this mercenary age today's comrade in arms can easily become tomorrow's adversary; one only has to look at Hopton and Waller to see that.”

“And?” 

“I am sure that Lambert will be loyal to Fairfax”, Jamie said. “Indeed, I am sure he would be loyal to any master. That is the trouble.”

“I do not see your point”, Stephen said.

“Lambert is a brilliant thinker”, Jamie said, “which is usually a good thing on the battlefield. And he always does well when he has someone to look up to, provided it someone he respects. But I fear.... if he ever finds himself without a leader then he might well try to take things on by himself. And he is not a leader. He has the same sort of iron beliefs that the king does, maybe even more so. Without someone above him to curb those, I do not know just what he might be capable of.”

Stephen was surprised, and not a little bit worried. He would write to Diana down in London and ask her to keep an eye on this fellow.

MDCXLVII

**July 1647**  
 **Stalwarton, Oxfordshire, ENGLAND**

A few days later there was a surprising development down in London. Although it took slightly longer than usual to filter through to a certain Oxfordshire nobleman.

“Summertime, and the living is easy”, Jamie panted as he worked away inside his lover. They had been working on the estate all day, helping to repair a barn over Wolfstown way where a structural study had shown it to be dangerously weak. The roof needed repairing too but a roofer could be brought in to do that once the place was safe. And a certain nobleman had, for some strange and inexplicable reason, thought that a certain Winter Soldier would have been too exhausted for much of That this evening.

Ha! Freaking! Ha!

“Not that easy”, Stephen grunted as Jamie somehow thrust even deeper. “I thought that you said you were going to bring me that letter that came while we were out?”

“Read it while you were making yourself beautiful!” Jamie grinned, ignoring the scowl that that remark elicited. “Guess what – the pillocks of parliament have actually done something sensible for once!”

“What?” Stephen gasped. “Oh my God!”

“No, just your horse-hung lover”, Jamie grinned. “They have allowed the Eleven Members to leave the country and deferred their trial for a sixmonth, so that they can prepare their defences.”

He thrust even deeper, which effectively cut off any chance of a reply from hie prey.

“More likely sell as much of their stuff as they can before quitting the country for good”, he said. “If they have any sense.”

“Very wise oh Lord!”

The nobleman yelped as Jamie effortlessly levered him upright until they were chest to chest, and in so doing struck Stephen's poor prostate yet again. Not that he got any response; the nobleman seriously doubted that there was a drop of come left in his poor balls.

Then Jamie started walking him round the room, and he just passed out.

MDCXLVII

**July 1647**  
 **Stalwarton, Oxfordshire, ENGLAND**

Stephen frowned as he re-read Cromwell's last letter. This was not good.

“The king?” his lover hazarded.

“Sort of”, Stephen said. “The Army has drawn up their own peace terms called the Heads of the Proposals, and presented them to the king. All very sensible and above-board, so of course the king will reject them.”

Jamie did not even bother to try to contradict him.

“What are they?” he asked.

“Bishops reduced to a ceremonial role, no enforcement of church attendance, the Covenant to be revoked, parliaments every two years, fairer constituencies, parliament to control all important appointments for ten years and no Royalists to be allowed to stand for office for five years. The killer is foreign policy – a Council of State will manage it, although it will have to refer all important decisions to parliament.”

“The king is technically in the next county”, Jamie mused. “I wonder – if we go outside we might just hear him scream when he reads all that!”

Stephen chuckled at that.

“Cromwell is getting increasingly worried about Leveller sentiment among his men”, he said. “It seems strange that not so long ago it was he who petitioned parliament for the release of Lilburne, but now he fears that things are going too far. And although he trusts Ireton who is leading the negotiators, he worries that if they yield anything to the king then they will lose the support of their own men.”

“Factions within factions”, Jamie sighed. “At least Luke is coming over with young Stephen and Lissa, so you can enjoy playing with your _grandchildren.”_

Stephen looked sharply at him. Was the bastard referencing his age again? Harrumph!

MDCXLVII

**July 1647**  
 **Stalwarton, Oxfordshire, ENGLAND**

“Oh fuck!”

Jamie looked up at his lover.

“What now?” he asked. “I thought that things were settled for a while.”

“A mob of so-called peace protestors forced their way into the Commons two days ago”, Stephen said. “They forced them to recall the Eleven Members and invite the king to London. They held poor Lenthall down in his chair until the votes were passed, so today he, Manchester and over fifty members of both chambers have fled to the Army.”

“Who will have the perfect excuse to march on London and restore them to office”, Jamie sighed. “They call themselves peace protestors, yet they are one step away from restarting this damn war!”

“I know”, Stephen said. “How could things be worse?”

MDCXLVII

He was less than twenty-four hours from finding the answer to that question.

MDCXLVII

**July 1647**  
 **Stalwarton, Oxfordshire, ENGLAND**

There was an unexpected visitor at the Hall early the following morning, Stephen's cousin Vale. Rather oddly he sent in a message asking to speak to Stephen alone which was not like him as he got on very well with Jamie. Luckily the soldier had gone over to Hampton.

The two men went into the study.

“Has something else happened in London?” Stephen asked.

“I left just after Lenthall and his friends slipped out”, Vale said, “and rode as fast as I could to get here. Diana did not feel that she could entrust what she had just found out even to her normal courier, so I said that I would bring you the news.”

“What news?” Stephen asked, beginning to feel ever more anxious. “The king?”

His visitor shook his head.

“Much much worse, I am afraid”, he said. “We have learned that last month, a lady called Mrs. Garsdale set sail for the Americas.”

Stephen looked at him. There had to be more to it than that; his cousin was rarely disconcerted yet he looked very worried indeed.

“Mrs. Garsdale was the midwife at the delivery of one James Buchanan Barnes nearly four decades ago”, Vale said grimly. “She knows who his real father is, and she left for her new life only when someone sent her money from the Americas – a certain Mr. John Amerike!”

Stephen's eyes widened. 

“Oh fuck!”

MDCXLVII


	14. The Power Of The Gun

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> July-August 1647.   
> Tensions continue to rise as Fairfax turns the screws on parliament while the king is, sadly, still himself. England is now under military rule in all but name, while Stephen has his own worries concerning the truth about his lover's background.

**July 1647**   
**Stalwarton, Oxfordshire, ENGLAND**

It was one of Jamie's stranger characteristics, Stephen had often thought, that unlike so many of his fighting brethren he only rarely drank. But he downed the large whisky that his lover had wisely had ready for him and looked more than capable of finishing off another. Maybe even the whole damn decanter!

“Are you sure?”

It was so unlike his lover's normal voice that Stephen felt chilled. Jamie was nearly always in command (especially in their bedroom!) but now he sounded worryingly unsure of himself.

The nobleman nodded.

“I did not want to tell you for obvious reasons”, he said, “but now there is the danger – maybe even the likelihood – that John knows who your real father was. You know my brother almost as well as I do, Jamie; he will try to find some way to exploit this.”

“Most likely blackmail”, Jamie agreed. “Still, we have some time. Three months to cross the ocean then longer to reach wherever he has not been thrown out of yet, then either he or his agents will have to make the crossing themselves. That gives us until early next year at least.”

Stephen noted that even in his distress, his lover did not push him to reveal his true father's name. He felt as ever unworthy of such a man, but he would work to remedy that.

“He is a fool!” Jamie all but spat out, “but if he threatens either you or me, I will not be responsible for the consequences however bloody they may be.”

Stephen just nodded. His lover managed a slight smile.

“That was where you were supposed to step in and urge me not to do anything to hurt your own blood”, he pointed out.

“I suppose”, Stephen said dryly, “but I was too busy enjoying the mental images!”

Jamie smiled and they pulled each other closer. As Chatton had said only the other day, they did indeed live in interesting times!

MDCXLVII

**July 1647**  
 **Stalwarton, Oxfordshire, ENGLAND**

“One good thing about Cromwell”, Stephen said the following day, “is that he never just assumes. When he writes about such and such a place, he actually says where it is.”

“The Army?” Jamie asked. His lover nodded.

“Fairfax has responded to this 'mob parliament' by moving his men to Colnbrook, which Cromwell says is near Windsor”, he said. “A natural assembly ground west of the capital; I think that Essex started his march to save Gloucester from there what seems like an aeon ago. Much more ominously Fairfax has sent parties of men to seize Tilbury and Gravesend, either side of the Thames east of the city.”

“The old pincer movement”, Jamie said with a smile. “Clever. It demoralizes the enemy by showing what you are capable of, but without expending any men's lives. Very Black Tom.”

“The news from Windsor is less happy, though”, Stephen said. “Cromwell says that poor Ireton is banging his head against a wall over his negotiations with the king, which are going very badly. Charles Stuart does not seem to understand just how weak his position is right now, and they caught him trying to arrange secret talks with the Scots the other day.”

“It is difficult to stop the king talking to the representatives of one of his realms”, Jamie said fairly. “Even if there is the danger that he may try to bring them over to his side.”

“But how?” Stephen asked. “The Army's proposals which he clearly wishes to have nothing to do with are more lenient that those the Scots offered him at Newcastle, so it would not make sense to say no but then accept a worse deal from people he turned down before."

“You forget”, Jamie reminded him, “that this is Charles Stuart. As we know he said in his letters to his wife, he is prepared to make almost any concession to win back power, which he will cancel once he is strong again. The problem is, he does not seem to realize that that is exactly what many on our side expect him to do – _because we know him!”_

MDCXLVII

**July 1647**  
 **Stalwarton, Oxfordshire, ENGLAND**

They needed a daily mail delivery service in this country, Stephen thought, as this was his third letter in as many days. Of course Diana had her efficient courier service, which enabled her to keep them both informed of developments. She also wrote regularly to Jamie 'to exchange ideas'; those letters always preceded the sort of nights with his lover that left the nobleman unable to walk the following morning.

Happy days (and even happier nights)!

“Well, the king has formally rejected the Heads of the Proposals¹”, Stephen sighed as he read his letter. “In related news, the sky is still blue.”

Jamie chuckled at his lover.

“Any other news?” he asked. “Preferably things that were not totally predictable?”

“Cromwell is worried about the French ambassador who attends on the king”, Stephen said. “We do not of course want a war with them in the current situation, especially as the end of the interminable German wars looks not far off, but my in-law is sure that the Frog is using his diplomatic status to convey letters for the king. Possible even to the Scots.”

“As you said, there is little that can be done about that”, Jamie said. “And do not forget that the French have their war with Spain which is not tied in with the German wars. Their economy too must be under strain as everyone knows they are funding rebels in Ireland, Portugal and Catalonia. I doubt that their Regency Council can spare much thought for the mess that is their old enemy across the Channel.”

“Vale also says that Diana has told him to sponsor a fellow called John Thurloe”, Stephen said, “who wishes to train to be a lawyer. He is a year younger than my cousin but she thinks that he will go far even if, as Vale puts it, 'he has the sort of character that can suck all the joy out of a room'.”

“He will likely just become another lawyer of whom nothing more will ever be heard”, Jamie said dismissively.

MDCXLVII

**August 1647**  
 **Stalwarton, Oxfordshire, ENGLAND**

“Well, parliament's assumption of power lasted less than a week”, Stephen said. “Fairfax has entered the capital, the Eleven Members have decided that life on the Continent is not so bad after all, and Lenthall has been reinstalled as Speaker. We now have military rule in England.”

“Only because the king has made such a dog's breakfast of everything”, Jamie sighed. “Again. What does Diana think about the Scots?”

“She reckons that there is some support for the king in the Estates but that Argyll is immovable over the Covenant”, Stephen said. “Unless the king concedes Presbyterianism – or being him, pretends to concede it in the hope that all his enemies will have a collective stupid moment and start trusting him – there will be no deal.”

“Any deal with this king is not worth the paper it is written on”, Jamie said firmly.

“And we are back to the crux of the problem”, Stephen said. “Everyone thinks that the king is necessary for a deal, yet no-one can trust him to keep his word. I fear that we may be heading to a forced abdication or something.”

“Or something”, Jamie echoed.

Stephen looked at him curiously. The soldier sighed.

“I was thinking the other day of Edward the Second”, he said. “You remember the one king who was..... you know.”

“Prone to random arm-waving?” Stephen smiled. 

His lover scowled at him.

“You know what I mean!” he snapped. “He formally abdicated and was murdered soon after; his enemies – his wife and her lover – knew full well that they could not allow him to go abroad² lest some enemy power use him as a figurehead for an invasion. We have seen this king prepared to talk to anyone and everyone who might help him; if the French say offered him an army he would likely bite their hand off!”

“I wonder if that is why he is playing for time just now?” Stephen mused. “Perhaps he hopes the Continental situation will change and help might become available.”

“He is a fool, then”, Jamie said shortly. “But we knew that already!”

MDCXLVII

**August 1647**  
 **Stalwarton, Oxfordshire, ENGLAND**

“I find myself liking Black Tom even more”, Jamie grinned as he read the latest news. “He has quite deliberately marched his men through London on their way to their new base at Croydon, down in Surrey. An unnecessary detour but doubtless it served to remind the capital – _and parliament!_ – just what he could do if provoked.”

“Surely they must see sense now and sort the men's back-pay?” Stephen said. “None will go to Ireland without it, and we need men there urgently.”

“Not that urgently, apparently”, Jamie said as he read on. “Our men over there have worsted the rebels at a place called Dungan's Hill west of the capital, and have broken their siege of nearby Trim.”

Stephen looked at him expectantly.

“What?” the soldier asked.

“Ireland”, Stephen said. “There has to be more.”

“You are far too cynical”, Jamie said, “even for a man very nearly forty years of age.”

Stephen scowled at him for that. The soldier smiled and nodded.

“And also correct”, he admitted. “Yes, most of the rebel army were slaughtered afterwards, up to three thousand or so they claim. They had been using a bog as part of their strategy for defence, but like at Towton in the Cousins' Wars³ it became a halter around their necks when things went against them.”

“There will be more of that to come once the New Model Army does finally get over there”, Stephen sighed. “No man on earth can prevent that.”

MDCXLVII

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _1) No Royalist could hold office for five years, the Book of Common Prayer was allowed to be read but not made compulsory, no fines for on-attendance at church, parliaments were to be every two years and could decide on their own termination, they also got to choose all government appointments for ten years, and bishops were to be retained but with greatly reduced powers. An amazingly generous deal, all things considered._   
>  _2) Edward the Second (ruled 1307-1327). Useless son of a great father, his reign was dominated by his male favourites, first Piers Gaveston who was murdered by his barons and later the Despensers, who were put to death when his wife Isabella invaded in their son's name and overthrew him. It may – may – be that the former king did escape abroad but subsequently kept his head down. Rather curiously the otherwise excellent record-keeping at Berkeley Castle where he was imprisoned did not mention his being recaptured after a third escape attempt, and his son and successor Edward the Third did later go many hundreds of miles out of his way while on the Continent to meet a mysterious 'William the Welshman'._   
>  _3) A key battle in what later became known as The Wars of the Roses (1455-1487). Fought in 1461, the Lancastrians held what seemed an insurmountable position, a ridge with a marsh to their left and a steep-banked river to their right. However, in order to prevent a flanking manoeuvre by the Yorkists their commander had broken the one bridge which they had used to access the battlefield, so when the battle went against him his men found themselves trapped. Both sides lost around 12,000 men in the actual battle but the Lancastrians lost a further 4,000 in the final rout._


	15. Putney And Plunder

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> August-October 1647.   
> There is a lot of jaw-jaw, which is at least better than a lot of war-war. The Army mulls over what to do with its sudden power while the English language acquires an unwelcome new word. Negotiations with the king continue to be fruitless (see under the sky being blue), and Stephen says the wrong word at the wrong time.

**August 1647**   
**Stalwarton, Oxfordshire, ENGLAND**

The long, hot summer days seemed to pass without incident over the coming weeks – although some smart-arsed soldier did not need to have remarked that history was like a certain nobleman; periods of quiet then a lot (of) coming all at once! - and it was nearly the end of the month before there was more news from the capital.

“I wonder if this is wise?” Stephen said thoughtfully. “Parliament putting the old Newcastle Propositions to the king in an attempt to make him see just how much better the Heads of the Proposals are by comparison. Is there not the danger that the king may decide to accept the former in order to win over the Scots?”

“My countrymen are fools if they think he would keep to his word in any such deal”, Jamie said forcibly, “but yes, it is possible. There is something evangelical about Presbyterianism that makes the followers want to spread it elsewhere, and they are right to think that an England of the same religion would make a better ally.”

“Now the Army is at Putney, almost within a cannon's shot of Westminster, while the king is installed at Hampton Court”, Stephen said. “From Cromwell's last letter he still thinks that Charles Stuart can be reasoned with.”

“The question is”, Jamie said heavily, “how many lives will it take in a renewal of the war to convince him otherwise? And when it does, what will be done with the king?”

“Fairfax is the man actually in charge of the Army”, Stephen pointed out.

“He is a soldier, not a politician”, Jamie countered. “He will be all at sea once the politicking really starts. Cromwell is the master at that, and he will decide what is to be done. Whatever it is.”

MDCXLVII

**August 1647**  
 **Stalwarton, Oxfordshire, ENGLAND**

Stephen frowned at the familiar name in his latest letter. He had read it before somewhere but could not quite place it, so he asked his lover. Who was fortunately to hand as he was in the middle of trying to fuck his way right through the nobleman's broken body!

“George Monck”, Jamie said as he once again sought to find Mecca. “Fellow about our age, he was the one who managed to prevent Newburn from becoming a catastrophe as opposed to a disaster seven years back. He saved the guns and covered the retreat of the king's forces.”

“Is he not a Royalist, then?” Stephen asked, quite proud that he could manage a whole sentence. Then Jamie pulled him upright without warning and the nobleman's body shuddered as a shock passed from his prostate right up his spine, making his eyes water.

“He was, but he was captured at Nantwich three years back and put in the Tower”, Jamie said, thrusting even harder as he bore his lover's weight with ease. “You need to hold off the desserts my liege, or I am going to have to do this more often to keep you in trim.”

The prospect horrified Stephen, and he had no idea why his head nodded without his permission.

“Monck?” he pressed.

“Oh yes”, Jamie said abstractedly. “Parliament eventually persuaded him to fight against the Confederate rebels in Ireland as that was technically not against the king; a sophistry but one which we know has been made use of by more than one man in arms. He has done all right over there, more through skill at exploiting his enemies' differences that anything else. What of him?”

Stephen gasped as his lover casually all but dropped him onto the bed before continuing his attempt to force his way inside the other man.

“He has been put in charge of Ulster”, Stephen managed. “Harder!”

His eyes widened in horror. Who had just said that?

Oh. Him. Oops!

MDCXLVII

**September 1647**  
 **Stalwarton, Oxfordshire, ENGLAND**

“William Batten was the fellow in charge of Plymouth, was he not?”

Jamie looked expectantly at his lover, and did not smirk when the latter yawned before answering.

He did not smirk _that_ much.

“Yes, they named the fort after him”, Stephen said, trying and failing to smother another yawn. “Mount Batten¹.”

“I am afraid that he is out of favour with his masters”, Jamie said. “You remember when the Eleven Members decided to take a sudden and rather immediate Continental vacation recently?”

Stephen smiled at his lover's wording, but then made the mistake of shifting his position on the couch. A spasm of pain reminded him that that was not the smartest move just now, and someone had better not start with the smirking again!

“Yes?” he managed.

“Someone blabbed, and parliament learned that he had intercepted six of them _en route”,_ Jamie said. “They were technically wanted men so his letting them go was not appreciated. He has been dismissed from his post.”

“A foolish move”, Stephen said. “We need good sailors like him, especially with all Europe moving towards peace and the trade flowing again. We shall hardly be sovereigns of the seas when we throw away all our best captains and commanders.”

He made to stand up, then realized that that was not going to happen any time soon. One of the few downsides of unexpected sex in his own study.

That and some smirking bastard who was out of swatting distance!

MDCXLVII

**September 1647**  
 **Stalwarton, Oxfordshire, ENGLAND**

“You know that you are getting old when the men doing the fighting are younger than you.”

Stephen stared suspiciously at his lover. Considering that Jamie was older than him – all right, only eight days but it still counted – he was far too fond of referencing a birthday next year that the nobleman was not looking forward to one little bit.

“To whom do you refer?” he said coolly.

“Murrough O' Brien, better known to kerns like me as Lord Inchiquin”, Jamie said. “Six years younger than us if I remember correctly; they call him Murrough the Burner over there. His latest atrocity was after storming the fortress of Cashel, when he let his men desecrate the cathedral there. Fool!”

“You once said that a soldier is himself a weapon, and not always one that can be controlled”, Stephen reminded him.

“That is one thing I do not miss about fighting”, Jamie said, “and one thing I was sorry to bring back from Germany. They have a word over there, plunder, meaning to loot or ransack a place. I have heard it used here too in recent years.”

“War does not respect frontiers”, Stephen said. “As you once told me it is infectious, like some diseases.”

“So is Cromwell a symptom or the cure?” Jamie countered. “He and Fairfax were able to defeat the king's armies partly because they did not plunder like their opponents, and once word got around the local people became their allies. They knew that they could trust their men not to behave as the king's frequently did.”

“And now that discipline rules over us all”, Stephen sighed. “What now, I wonder?”

MDCXLVII

**October 1647**  
 **Stalwarton, Oxfordshire, ENGLAND**

“Cromwell sounds stressed”, Stephen said to Jamie. “On one side he has his soldiers debating what to so with all the Army's sudden power down by the riverside at Putney, and on the other he has the king. Or rather, he had the king.”

“He has not escaped or anything?” Jamie asked. 

Stephen shook his head.

“The Army has broken off all talks with him”, he said. “They have realized, as anyone could have told them long ago, that he is incapable of negotiating in good faith.”

“I hope that Luke and Anne going down might cheer her father up, then”, Jamie said. “We all know how he had that spell in the thirties when he went through his own dark vale. We need him on top form for what is to come next.”

“He was also down after visiting Lilburne in the Tower”, Stephen said, “where he has been thrown yet again.”

“Freeborn John should get a discount for the number of times he has been in there!” Jamie smiled.

“He accused Cromwell of betraying the Leveller cause”, Stephen said. “As if a landowner could subject the country to the revolution that Lilburne wants without starting another war.”

“Men who agitate for change rarely see that, though”, Jamie said. “They see the world in black and white, so any shade of grey is a betrayal.”

“Poor Cromwell”, Stephen said. “He has a lot on his shoulders just now.”

MDCXLVII

**October 1647**  
 **Stalwarton, Oxfordshire, ENGLAND**

“The more I look at it, the more I fear that we are headed for another bout of war”, Stephen sighed. “The king has refused to renew his parole, so Cromwell has had to double the guard around him hence making his life at Hampton much less pleasant.”

“If you are looking for sympathy, try elsewhere”, Jamie said shortly. “That man started this conflict and cost many thousands of innocent men, women and children their lives, yet he continues to live in luxury and even threatens to renew the whole thing!” 

“Cromwell has also made a speech which has raised more than a few eyebrows”, Stephen went on. “He has formally renounced any Leveller sympathies and declared himself fully in favour of the system of Monarchy.”

“Brilliant”, Jamie said, “except that that system needs a monarch who can be trusted. Which we do not have – and if the king does succeed in winning over the Scots to his side, that will be proven beyond all doubt. And then what?”

Stephen sighed. What indeed?

MDCXLVII

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _1) Site of arguably the oldest recorded settlement in England, operating from at least as far back as 800 BC as a trading-post for Cornish tin exports to Europe._


	16. The Poorest He

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> November 1647.   
> Someone says a Bad Word in Surrey and the talking is so over. Peace on the Continent is tantalizingly close, which may be unfortunate as war once again looms in Britain. The king briefly escapes but makes a fateful decision and picks the wrong potential ally. Meanwhile Jamie is a bastard of the first order – but then, his lover knows that already!

**November 1647**   
**Stalwarton, Oxfordshire, ENGLAND**

Jamie whistled in astonishment.

“He actually said that?” he asked incredulously. “In a room full of his fellow soldiers, and to someone as stuffy as Ireton? I am amazed our sort of relative did not die of shock!”

Stephen chuckled at that.

“Tom Rainsborough is, as we know, wont to say what he thinks regardless”, he said. Even so, coming out and saying 'I think that the poorest he that is in England hath a life to live, as the greatest he; and therefore truly, Sir, I think it's clear, that every man that is to live under a government ought first by his own consent to put himself under that government; and I do think that the poorest man in England is not bound in a strict sense to that government that he hath not had a voice to put himself under.'”

“Poor Ireton!” Jamie said feelingly. “Assuming he did not drop dead with shock, how did he respond to such outrageous tomfoolery?”

“He said that no man had a right to the vote who did not have a propertied interest in the nation”, Stephen said. “Little wonder that Cromwell decided that that was an end to the debates down Putney way. Such horrible ideas might actually be popular with the masses, then where would we be?”

“One day they will happen”, Jamie said confidently. “That is the way Mankind is heading, even if far too often it is two steps forward but one step back. It will take many a year and certainly not come about in our lifetimes, but happen it will.”

“Philosopher Bucky!” Stephen grinned.

His lover just looked at him. The nobleman's grin slowly faded. It was less than an hour until dinner and.... and why was he just sitting there and not following his lover out of the room?

He fairly sprinted after his man.

MDCXLVII

**November 1647**  
 **Stalwarton, Oxfordshire, ENGLAND**

“Do you know a place called Westphalia?” Stephen asked his lover a few days later.

“An area in northern Germany, near the border with the Netherlands”, Jamie said. “There are so many borders round there, but I think the main towns are Münster and Dortmund. Why? What of it?”

“It looks like this much-desired peace is edging ever closer”, Stephen said. “They have been talking since before Edgehill but the latest news is that they are close to a final settlement, likely some time early next year.”

Jamie sighed.

“But France will still have its hands full with Spain, Denmark has been eclipsed by Sweden, and both the United Provinces and the German states will be too busy rebuilding their countries after.... what, thirty years of war for them and eighty in the Low Countries. It makes our own conflict seem tame by comparison.”

“Many thousands dead and many more ruined might venture to question that 'tameness'”, Stephen said. “I still fear however that the king will somehow succeed in restarting things here.”

“I am afraid that my countrymen are coming round to some sort of deal with him”, Jamie sighed. “Penelope writes from Wormit that the mood there is one to strike a deal with the king, and that even the great Argyll might be persuaded to cease his objections if the deal looked good enough.”

“You mean, if the king's lies were convincing enough!” Stephen snorted.

“Exactly!”

MDCXLVII

**November 1647**  
 **Stalwarton, Oxfordshire, ENGLAND**

The shocking news reached them in less than twenty-four hours, though that was partly luck. Cromwell had dispatched a messenger to Oxford with instructions to go on to Stalwarton if his trip was pointless. Even better, it was Captain Quicksilver who has just rejoined his unit before all hell had broken loose.

“We were still at Putney”, the young fellow sighed, accepting a whisky with alacrity, “when the news reached us. The king has escaped from Hampton Court!”

Both Stephen and Jamie sat up sharply.

“The ports?” Stephen asked at once.

“They have a standard warning anyway”, the captain said, “but you know how lax people become over time. We are very much afraid that he will manage to slip away to France from somewhere or other, which would put us in a very difficult position. Cromwell has dispatched riders in all directions; I was sent to the king's former capital to see if he had been sighted here possibly either to raise his standard or to head west into Wales, but no. So as instructed I came here.”

“We are most grateful”, Stephen said. “You must stay the night here; even Cromwell can hardly ask you to ride back in the pitch dark.”

“Thank you, sir”, the captain smiled.

MDCXLVII

“Where do you think he might have gone?” Stephen asked his lover later. Jamie had been in the mood for some slow and sensuous love-making that evening, plus as he said there was a stranger in the house who might come to investigate if he heard the master of Stalwarton screaming like a girl again (Stephen had glared at him for that!). Although it vexed the nobleman more than he would ever admit that this gradual taking him apart left him even more wrecked than his lover at his fiercest.

_It vexed him almost as much as the damn smirking!_

“It puzzles me”, Jamie admitted. “I know that he had not given his parole, but we all know that he is supremely self-confident of his own abilities even at this stage in the proceedings. I do not see him fleeing to France unless of course the French have made an offer to receive and possibly even help him. But that seems unlikely; their regency government is shaky enough as it is and they do not need trouble with England when they are still fighting on so many other fronts.”

“Denmark, perhaps?” Stephen suggested.

“Too far”, Jamie said. “He was at Hampton Court, so a south coast port would be more likely than an east coast one. He might aim for the United Provinces but after Frederick Henry's passing earlier this year I do not see his under-age son wanting to add to his own troubles by crossing parliament, even if William is the king's son-in-law. Also he has no clear heir if anything should happen to him, and we know that that is never good for any country.”

“Charles Stu, where are you?” Stephen wondered.

MDCXLVII

**November 1647**  
 **Stalwarton, Oxfordshire, ENGLAND**

The following morning they saw Captain Quicksilver off. Stephen noted that young Edward seemed oddly thoughtful for some reason and asked why. He may have imagined it but he thought that there was a slight hesitation before his answer.

“I have to go over and see Thunor today”, the boy sighed.

It was damnably unfair of Jamie, out of sight of the boy, to draw his finger across his neck like that! Stephen glared at the pest and earned himself an innocent look in return that he did not believe for one minute!

MDCXLVII

**November 1647**  
 **Stalwarton, Oxfordshire, ENGLAND**

The answer to where the king had gone reached them two days later, when Chatton brought the news back from Oxford. 

“The Isle of Wight?” Jamie exclaimed. “Only a few miles off the Hampshire coast, and with hardly any ships to the Continent? Why there of all places?”

“It seems that the king thought he could trust Robert Hammond, the governor of the island”, Stephen said. “That seems odd; the fellow is some distant relation to Cromwell.”

“I know of him too and it is not that odd”, Jamie said. “He has a good reputation as a fighter but he is more chancy in the political arena, and not someone I would trust unless I absolutely had to. Brave certainly, but the king might have thought that he could be swung to his side. I suspect, though I have no proof, that he accepted the island posting because he is uneasy as to the way the king has been handled of late.”

“The poor fellow probably had a conniption when he learned of his new guest, then!” Stephen smiled. “I would wager that he immediately wrote to his cousin and asked what the blazes he was to do with him. I have not been to the island; have you?”

“No”, Jamie said, “but someone I fought alongside in Germany came from Ventnor, which is on the southern coast of the island. The place is not large but the key to it is the castle at Carisbrooke, just outside the capital Newport and a strong place indeed. I am sure that if anyone tried to land there in an attempt to rescue the king, then provided Hammond has him inside the castle walls and can get a request for help out, he would be safe enough.”

“The rumours were that the king fled Hampton Court because he feared some of the Levellers were out to kill him”, Stephen said. “I doubt that; it was more likely to show what he might do up to and including going abroad if needed. If Hammond has any sense he will have him under close guard as soon as possible.”

“For all our sakes, let us hope so”, Jamie said.

MDCXLVII

**November 1647**  
 **Stalwarton, Oxfordshire, ENGLAND**

“It looks like Cromwell took your advice about a good commander needing good spies”, Stephen observed a few days later. “Several of the Leveller-dominated regiments tried to meet at a place called Corkbush Field near Ware in Hertfordshire, but he knew of it beforehand and hardly anyone made it. Those few that did were easily rounded up and dealt with.”

“I wish he had remained in sympathy with Lilburne and his beliefs”, Jamie sighed. “There are few things more dispiriting to a soldier than to fight a war only to find at the end that either nothing has changed, or one has exchanged one despotic ruler for another.”

“No final settlement is ever going to please anyone”, Stephen said. “Changing the subject, I mean to ask you something the other day but I forgot.”

“Memory is one of the first things to go in old age”, said someone who was severely pushing his luck.

“I saw young Banner, the smith's son, walking towards the house the day Captain Quicksilver left”, Stephen said, scowling at his utterly unfunny friend. “I am sure it was him; that bulk of his is unmistakeable. He had to be coming here as he was using the path from the church, yet he never came.”

“Not a problem you have, never coming!”

Stephen sighed at his lover. 

“What am I going to do with you?” he asked in mock despair.

“Funny you should ask that”, Jamie grinned, rising to his feet. “I have been making a list....”

MDCXLVII

**November 1647**  
 **Stalwarton, Oxfordshire, ENGLAND**

It was two days later, and Stephen was never more grateful that he agreed with Edward's tutor to take the boy to Shakespeare's Stratford as part of his education. Jamie had said that their charge needed looking at as he actually liked England's greatest author, which Stephen would have objected to but he was not sure if he had the muscular coordination. For his lover had indeed been drawing up a list – a very, very thorough list!

Every single muscle in the nobleman's body seemed to ache more than the one next to it! He might not have been looking forward to his fortieth birthday next year but he would still quite like to have seen it and preferably in one piece, thank you very much!

He sat down very carefully to the breakfast table and noted that his lover looked decidedly serious.

“More news?” he asked, wondering why his voice sounded so absurdly loud.

“From Ireland”, Jamie said, “so we know what to expect and sad to say are not disappointed. Our forces have won a great victory at a place called Knocknanuss¹, despite being severely outnumbered.”

Stephen sighed. 

“And after?” he asked.

“Slaughter even of those who surrendered”, Jamie said scornfully. “I know that that is not technically a crime – they had not surrendered at mercy like those poor saps after Philiphaugh did, but they say that many more died after the battle than during it. They even found some two hundred of the enemy hiding in a wood the next day and killed them to a man!”

“It will be justified on destroying an enemy army, I suppose”, Stephen sighed.

“But it will likely prove counter-productive”, Jamie said. “What will the Confederates do when they see their cause crumbling? I will tell you what they will do, Ste. They will finally sign that alliance with the king and try to force their way back to Dublin again. What an infernal mess!”

MDCXLVII

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _1) North-west of the town of Cork. The Confederates had a slight numerical advantage but lost 3,000 men, nearly half their army, while the English lost only 1,000._


	17. A Bloody Engagement

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> November-December 1647.   
> Stephen gets to make his steward Fraser happy by allowing Chatton to continue to try to kill his fellow Scotsman through sex. Jamie is embarrassed by a huge cock and soon after his lover is... go figure. Cromwell quotes from the Book of Numbers, parliament again tries to clamp down on Christmas – and then, calamity of calamities, there is an Engagement!

**November 1647**   
**Stalwarton, Oxfordshire, ENGLAND**

A few days later and there was another shocking and totally unexpected development. Or as some smart-arsed winter soldier quipped, the sky was blue again.

“Waiting for this king to do something treacherous and deceitful is like waiting for the sun to rise!” Stephen groaned as he read the latest news. “We all know that he has been using the French to communicate with his absent wife, but he had to try some other method as well. And now he has been found out.”

“What did he say?” Jamie asked.

“A letter had been inserted into the saddle of a rider headed down to Dover”, Stephen said. “The fellow did not know about it, which was fortunate for him, but there was someone in the port ready to intercept it. One of Cromwell's spies in the king's bedchamber learned of it and they managed to get it when the rider stopped at the famous Blue Boar in Holborn.”

Jamie nodded. Anyone who knew anything about London knew of that particular tavern; it was a city tradition for men on their way to be hung at Tyburn to be allowed one last pint of beer there, the owner always quipping that they should settle their bill on the way back¹. 

“It was damning indeed”, Stephen sighed. “Not just the deal with the Scots – that was all but known anyway – but the determination to destroy Cromwell and Ireton personally. My in-law must know that if only for his own safety, he can never let the king anywhere near the levers of power again.”

“This king has always taken things far too personally for a monarch”, Jamie said. “Great Elizabeth was so much the wiser on that; she might rage and storm at a fellow for defying her and even throw him in the Tower for a time, but once a settlement had been reached then she forgave all. Even this king's father saw the wisdom of that. Neither of them had this lifelong thirst for revenge or hatred for their enemies, and England was so much the better for it.”

“I really fear that your countrymen will bite at the king's offer and invade on his behalf”, Stephen said. “Even with the inevitable risings by English Royalists, I do not see how they can possibly overcome the New Model Army, and the only result will be more lives lost. It is terrible!”

MDCXLVII

**December 1647**  
 **Stalwarton, Oxfordshire, ENGLAND**

“Cromwell has decided to give the king one last chance”, Stephen told his lover as they lay together that evening. December had brought the first snows of winter, and both men were grateful that they had a warm bed after being out in it all day.

“In what way?” Jamie yawned.

“Parliament is to send the king something he is calling the Four Bills”, Stephen said, smiling at his lover's unusual tiredness. “The king must hand over all military control to them for twenty years and allow them to regain that control any time they wish. He must also not go to war even after that period without their consent, must annul all recently granted honours, and also revoke all his declarations against parliament.”

“And fly to the Moon while he is about it!” Jamie snorted. 

Stephen looked at him curiously.

“You seem a little quiet tonight”, he said. “Is something wrong?”

His lover blushed.

“Edward rather caught me out over that snowman”, he muttered, not looking at his lover.

Stephen chuckled. The soldier's anatomically correct (if anatomically improbable) snowman had become a tradition of theirs ever since their time in Scotland, although a certain horn-dog always said that it was modelled on his personally and he could prove it. After which he often did!

“I said that it was likely some boys from the village but he just gave me a knowing look”, Jamie admitted. 

“A huge cock embarrassing my own horn-dog”, Stephen grinned. “Will wonders never cease!”

Suddenly he found himself thrust into his back, a feral-looking lover poised above him.

“Then perhaps I need to remind my liege just how closely I modelled my latest masterpiece on my good self?” Jamie said darkly.

Stephen grinned. It looked like being a very good evening for him, if likely a sore one for his arse. Ah well.

MDCXLVII

**December 1647**  
 **Stalwarton, Oxfordshire, ENGLAND**

Stephen would have said that his chief steward, Scott Fraser, was one of the least emotional men on the planet. But after what he had just said to the fellow, the Scotsman was very close to tears.

“Are you sure, sir?” the behemoth said, his lip definitely quivering. “I mean, it is a fair-sized place.”

“We need a new gatekeeper”, Stephen said, “and I know that you will not turn sixty until next May....”

“Four days after someone else turns forty!” muttered someone who could really learn to shut up some time.

“... but the place needs a lot of repairs before it is fit for both of you”, Stephen said, glaring at his teasing lover. “And Chatton will need to find and train up a new deputy for when he takes over as well.”

That, he knew, would be difficult as they would have to find someone broad-minded enough to fit in on the estate. But then despite these unenlightened times there were more people like that than most thought; Cromwell had once told him that he did not really care what the men under him got up to in their private lives provided that it did not affect their fighting abilities. After all, he had said, there were surely not enough hours in the day for him to start inquiring into the peccadilloes of all his men!

“You can spend the next few months working on the place so it is ready for May”, Jamie said. “Besides, we are sure that you will want to 'christen' ever room once you do move in!”

Both men blushed at that. 

“Thank you, sirs”, Chatton said. “I am sure that my beautiful man will do just that, despite his 'great age'.”

His lover swatted half-heartedly at him but smiled. Stephen was pleased to see them both so happy, especially at such a joyous time of the year.

MDCXLVII

**December 1647**  
 **Stalwarton, Oxfordshire, ENGLAND**

It was of course no longer the joyous time that it had been, as the Puritanical New Model Army was cracking down on 'this pagan celebration' as they called Christmas. And then doubtless being surprised that making the people's lives more miserable did not for some reason go down well.

“There have been major riots in Canterbury and Ipswich”, Stephen told his lover a few days later. “The Kentish authorities even lost control of the town for a while after they tried to ban Christmas. Again.”

“Fools!” Jamie said scornfully. “What can they do, exactly? They can hardly force businesses to open when they do not wish to, and by closing all the churches everyone is pretty much certain to head straight for the pubs.”

“Zealots rarely think through the consequences of their actions”, Stephen said. “They just do them, then are confounded when things do not work out as they should have done. And their reaction is always the same; they just try again. This is the second year running that the mayor of London has been told by parliament that he must do a better job of enforcing the rules on Christmas, and the effect will be the same as last year. Zero!”

“The Army is making itself unpopular”, Stephen sighed, “and just as the king is seeking to get the Scots on side. That is not good, my friend, not good at all.”

MDCXLVII

**December 1647**  
 **Stalwarton, Oxfordshire, ENGLAND**

It was the last day of the year when they received a letter from Vale and Diana down in London. The news was expected, but still depressing.

“The king has signed something called the Engagement with the Scots”, Stephen told his lover. “But he has refused to sign the Covenant so that will split your countrymen, I am afraid.”

“Nothing will happen for a while, though”, Jamie said. “We both remember Scotland; the Estates will not be able to meet until spring makes the roads passable and men can get to Edinburgh. Then it will be a test of both strength and conscience, to see if they can raise an army big enough to invade England.”

“Cromwell has an excellent spy network”, Stephen said, “so he will know of their movements and any attempts to coordinate with the English Royalists. But it will still cost lives. Likely the king's, if he is not careful.”

“You think that they might put him to death as a way out of this mess?” Jamie asked.

“After the letter saying that he wanted to destroy Cromwell, then yes”, Stephen said. “In his last letter my in-law stated how angry he was that the king was refuting God's judgement in making him lose the war, and called him 'that man of blood².”

Jamie's eyes widened.

“Oh!” he said. “That _is_ bad!”

MDCXLVII

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _1) Full name The George & Blue Boar, it was at 285 High Holborn and was demolished in 1864. Of course only people who the mob liked were allowed a final drink; unpopular condemned men got hustled on by!_   
>  _2) From the Book of Numbers, chapter 35, verse 33: 'So ye shall not pollute the land wherein ye are: for blood it defileth the land: and the land cannot be cleansed of the blood that is shed therein, but by the blood of him that shed it'. In other words, only the blood (i.e. the death) of the king who had caused this mess could lead to a way out._


End file.
